


Ghost of a Chance

by Kalkasar (Mordhena), Mordhena



Series: No Turning Back [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alien Planet, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Culture Shock, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Returning Home, Stranded, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 31,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Mordhena
Summary: With his eyesight restored, Trip Tucker becomes even more determined to find a means to get himself and Malcolm back to Enterprise.Malcolm, on the other hand is less enthused by the idea and still hasn't opened up to Trip about his experiences on Clinarin II
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Series: No Turning Back [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916815
Comments: 19
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story deals with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and suicidal thoughts, including an attempt at suicide. If this is likely to be triggering in any way, please take care.

**_Image By_ **

**_Helyn Highwater_ **

****

> A Ghost of a Chance
> 
> Somehow we find each other  
> Through all that masquerade  
> Somehow we found each other  
> Somehow we have stayed  
> In a state of grace.
> 
> I DON'T BELIEVE IN DESTINY  
> OR THE GUIDING HAND OF FATE  
> I DON'T BELIEVE IN FOREVER  
> OR LOVE AS A MYSTICAL STATE  
>   
> I DON'T BELIEVE IN THE STARS OR THE PLANETS  
> OR ANGELS WATCHING FROM ABOVE  
> BUT I BELIEVE THERE'S A GHOST OF A CHANCE  
> WE CAN FIND SOMEONE TO LOVE  
> AND MAKE IT LAST  
> [Rush – Ghost of a Chance](https://youtu.be/YLTFbtOfmxk)
> 
> With many thanks to my beta and the godmother of the plot bunnies, RedheadHeart!

**Part 1**

As he stepped from the cool, shaded depths of his workshop, Tucker pressed both hands to the small of his back and arched his spine against them, easing the day's work and tension out of his body as he raised his eyes to survey, first the sky and then the horizon. This was a habit he had gleaned in his time with the reptilian people who never ventured far from the opening of a burrow without this reconnaissance. He sighed and let his hands fall to his sides, walking away from the shaded entrance to make his way across the small expanse of desert between his workshop and the burrow he shared with Reed.

Shondré stood at the entrance to her own home, watching the sky herself and when she saw Tucker, she raised an arm and called out, gesturing for him to approach her.

In the late afternoon sunshine, her skin gleamed, rosy grey, shot through with flashes of gold where the suns rays caught her scales. Her amber eyes warmed as he approached and her lips parted in a smile.

Tucker had always marvelled at how small this female was compared to the other Zilanthi but she would never explain those differences beyond telling him she was a healer and that accounted for it.

She was shorter than Tucker by at least two inches, and her frame was light and slender. In some ways, she reminded him of the little wall skinks that had populated the gardens around his home on Earth, agile, swift and ever alert for danger.

Her skin was smooth and shimmered where the hide of 'common' Zilanthi was rough and scaly. Her frame was light, almost athletic where theirs were heavy set and rugged. She might almost be of a different species. Tucker thought that she was the closest thing to a beautiful Zilanthi he had seen. He loved how the light striking just above her eyes on the small, scaly ridges turned them the colour of burnished brass. He took the small, smooth skinned paw she extended to him. "You wanted to see me?"

"Tucker," she said softly. "Will you come in for a moment? There iss something I wish to discuss with you."

"Sure," he stepped through the doorway as she swept her robes aside and waited for her to join him before moving on along the tunnel into her living quarters.

Seating himself on a small stool, Tucker patiently submitted to the healer's examination of his still patched left eye.

"Are you sure you're not straining the vision in thiss eye? You wear the patch as I've instructed? It must not be overstrained, or you will undo all the good that has been done," she admonished.

"I swear," he said. "I only take it off for an hour at a time."

"Good."

"Besides," Tucker added with a chuckle. "Malcolm would kick my ass if I didn't do as I was told…Shondré's word is law in our burrow."

"Reed is a good nursse for you, Tucker, a good mate. You have chosen well." Shondré said as she replaced the patch over the human's eye.

Tucker nodded and his lips formed the ghost of a smile, but he didn't reply. His thoughts turned to Malcolm for a moment and a troubled frown touched his brow. Shondré used the word mate in reference to Reed a lot, but it wasn't really a true summation of their relationship. Malcolm had softened towards him since his illness and had become a little more open, but it was not how Tucker had hoped things would be between them.

Since the day when he had regained his eyesight, Reed had been an attentive nurse, tending to his hand, and the still healing eyes with gentle efficiency. He had become more physically demonstrative, offering hugs, touches and even kisses occasionally, and yet, it was as though Reed still held him at a distance. He looked up, met the healer's eyes, and was about to speak when she nodded and placed a gentle paw on his shoulder.

"I know..." Shondré said softly. "All iss not well with him."

"Is Malcolm sick?" Fear gripped him and he searched her face intently. "Tell me…is somethin' wrong with him that I don't know about?"

"He iss physically well, Tucker, but he iss…ailing inside…something I cannot touch, not the way I can touch you. He iss closed to me, Tucker, and thiss thing in him, whatever it is – is slowly sapping his energies. I am concerned for him, Tucker but I cannot help him unless he wills it."

"Yeah." One word, but more eloquent than any long-winded speech could have been. Tucker sighed. "An' if I know Malcolm Reed, that's gonna be the tricky part."

"I believe that Reed is fighting a battle in his soul with something that is too big for him to fight alone, Tucker. It is something, perhaps, that happened in the time that you were apart. I know a little of the culture of the planet Clinarin II. Her amber eyes darkened for a moment with something that even Tucker couldn't decipher. "He has tried to bear this great burden alone, and now his strength is failing. Tucker…" The healer looked steadily into his eyes. "You must try to find a way to make him share this burden with you."

"I don't know if I can get him t'open up to me, Shondré. Malcolm Reed is one man who can hold yap…I've tried other times to get him t'talk about things…and…" he sighed and shook his head.

"Reed trusts you, Tucker. You are the only one on this planet who is likely to be able to get through to him. Will you at least try to get him to talk about Clinarin II?"

Tucker drew another long breath and at length nodded. "I guess I owe it to him after all he's gone through to get me back on my feet." He met the healer's eyes. "I'll try."


	2. Chapter 2

Tucker stepped into the living area of the burrow he and Malcolm shared."Malcolm?" he called softly, glancing around the main living room as he entered. "I'm home," he added.  
  
He took a pitcher of water from the cooler and poured himself a glass, smiling to himself as he used the hand that had, for so many months been too weak to manage holding the pitcher steady enough to pour a drink.  
  
"Did you go to see Shondré?" Malcolm stepped out of his bedroom and moved to sit at the small dining table. His dark hair curled damply against his scalp; he'd obviously recently bathed.  
  
"Yeah, she wanted to take a look at my eyes," Trip took a seat opposite his friend and smiled softly. "Between you and that healer, I never get a minute's rest."  
  
Reed snorted, "You thrive on the attention and don't try to deny it, Mister Tucka." He grinned and settled back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching luxuriously. "A good report, I hope?"  
  
"Hm?" Tucker had been distracted for a moment, thinking of the matters he had discussed with the healer.  
  
"Shondré…I take it she is pleased with your progress?"  
  
"Oh…yeah, everythin's fine," Tucker replied.  
  
"Good." Reed sighed and fell silent, eyes reflective as he retreated into his own thoughts.  
  
"Malcolm…are you okay?"  
  
"Of course." Reed cast him a quick glance. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
"I dunno." Tucker shrugged. "I guess I just…I was just wonderin'  
  
"Trip, I'm fine." Reed sat up, leaning forward in his chair to emphasise the point.  
  
"You'd tell me, wouldn't you...if there was somethin' wrong, I mean you'd...you'd let me know if anythin' was botherin' ya?"  
  
Reed stared at him steadily for a few moments, his eyes darkening slightly. "If there were anything the matter, of course I would tell you."   
  
"Right," Tucker nodded. He didn't believe that for one minute. He bit down on his lower lip and averted his eyes for a moment then decided to take the bull by the horns. "You never talk about Clinarin II." He said, a statement, not a question.  
  
"There's no need to talk about it," Reed replied. "It's past, over; it's not worth discussing."  
  
"I've told you all about what happened with me while we were apart." Tucker knew he sounded petulant, and he hated it, but he looked into Reed's eyes. "If what happened to you was no big deal then..."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, Trip!" Reed snapped. "I just don't see the point in dredging up the past. There's nothing to be gained from it ..." he got to his feet, "Now if you don't mind, can we please drop the subject? I'm...tired."  
  
Tucker sighed and nodded his head. "All right, I didn' mean to upset ya."  
  
"I shouldn't have snarled at you." Reed turned to look at him. "It was uncalled for. I'm sorry."  
  
Deciding to let the issue go for now, Tucker leaned back in his chair. "So, what's for dinner?" He asked. "I could even go for resequenced meatloaf right about now!"  
  
Reed chuckled. "I've got something better than that..." He went to the cooler. "I managed to wheedle Shereth's recipe for Crellis out of her." He cast a glance and a mischievous grin over his shoulder at Tucker's exclamation of delight.  
  
"How the hell did you manage that?" Tucker's face was a picture of pleased anticipation.   
  
"You know I can't reveal my methods...security breach." Reed quipped. “Suffice to say it was a tactical exercise of mammoth proportions."

  
Tucker chuckled. "You're amazin'," he said with a shake of his head.   
  
Crellis, a vegetarian delicacy favoured by the Zilanthi, was a rich soup made from the roots of several native plants, it was highly nutritious and flavoursome. Tucker had developed a taste for it during his early days on the planet, when it had been considered the best source of nourishment for him in his weakened state.  
  
Reed took a clay dish from the cooler and placed it on top of the cooking unit. "It will only take a few minutes to heat up," he said. "And I even baked some scones."   
  
"Be careful, Mister Reed, you're gettin' to sound awful domesticated."  
  
"Nonsense!" Reed turned to face Tucker, folding his arms across his chest and fixing the engineer with a stern glare. "As chief of security, _and_ chief morale officer, it's my duty to ensure the safety and mental well being of those in my charge. I am merely performing my duty to the best of my ability, Commander Tucker."  
  
Trip smirked and leaned back in his chair. "I see..." the tip of his tongue just lightly touched the corner of his lips as he struggled to keep a straight face. "And... does your 'duty' include improvin' morale by givin' me a kiss?" He'd meant it as a joke. A gentle tease, continuing the light banter, but Tucker's teasing smile faded as he watched a dramatic transformation come over his companion.  
  
Reed seemed to freeze momentarily and his eyes took on a haunted look as he stared, unspeaking at Tucker.   
  
Watching him, the engineer saw the muscles in Reed's jaw work as the man swallowed convulsively. For an instant, his expression was one of stark terror before Reed shook himself and turned to the cooker.   
  
"Malcolm?" Tucker came to his feet and moved across the room, reaching to lay a gentle hand on Reed's shoulder. "Malcolm...look at me."  
  
Tucker felt the sudden tension in Reed's shoulders at the touch and he let his hand fall to his side. "Malcolm, please...talk to me."  
  
"It's all right," Reed murmured. "I'm all right...just...leave it, Trip. Please."  
  
"You're not all right, Malcolm...you're far from all right, and this thing ...whatever it is ... it's eatin' you up." Tucker gently turned the man to face him. "I won't let this go, Malcolm. It's too important, _you're_ too important. We need to talk about it."  
  
"Trip, No!" Malcolm shook his head and brushed past the engineer, heading for his room. "I don't _want_ to talk about it, can't you just take no for an answer?"  
  
He left, rushing into his own room as though pursued and firmly closed the door behind him.  
  
Tucker stood frowning at the closed door for several moments, half hoping that Reed would come out again, but when it remained shut, he sighed and turned to remove the dish of Crellis from the cooker. His pleasure at the thought of eating his favourite meal dissipated. He set the dish aside, covered it to keep bugs away and slowly made his way to his own bed.  
  
'I'm not gonna just let this go,' he thought, 'I'm not goin' to let you face this – whatever it is – alone, Malcolm.'


	3. Chapter 3

Reed lay on his back, staring up at the rough stone ceiling of his bedroom. It was late and he had not slept a wink. He sighed, turning to his side and closed his eyes, wishing for the hundredth time that sleep would come.

Why had Trip suddenly decided he needed to know about the months Malcolm had spent on Clinarin II, why now? He’d known that eventually he would have to face telling Trip about his life on that planet, but he had hoped that it would not be so soon.

The burrow was silent, no sounds of movement. He'd heard Tucker go to his room hours earlier. Part of him had wanted to go and apologize for his reaction to Tucker's gentle probing. Stubborn pride held him back. That, and the fear that Tucker would begin to push him again.

Not now. Not while the very thought of Clinarin II brought all the horror and pain rushing to the surface again to close off his throat and set his mind reeling with horrific memories … memories he didn't want to face yet.

With a grunt of frustration, he flopped onto his belly unconsciously assuming the same resting position he'd often been forced to lie in on his hard, thin pallet at the Consulate. He screwed his eyes shut, willing his mind to settle, his breathing to slow and calm. _I'm safe here,_ he told himself. _No-one here wishes me any harm…it's over…_ He drew long, slow breaths, forcing his achingly tense shoulders to relax.

Reed released a shuddering breath as finally, his heart rate returned to normal and the constriction in his throat and chest eased. The panic that had threatened to overtake him receded and he sighed with relief. One more night that he'd managed to hold the monsters at bay.

A furtive sound of movement caught his attention and Reed bolted up in the bed as the door of his room cracked open slightly. A shudder ran through him and he was hard pressed not to huddle into a corner of the bed whimpering like a frightened child.

He felt cold sweat break out over his body as the door slowly opened a little wider. He gritted his teeth, wishing that he'd thought to keep a phase pistol in his room as blind panic began to rise again.

"Malcolm?" The name was whispered, tremulous.

Reed exhaled with a rush and closed his eyes. "Trip?" he fought to make his voice sound even and natural. "What's the matter?"

"I…ah…I need to talk I…I dunno what's goin' on…"

Tucker's voice sounded odd to Reed's ears, hesitant and shaky.

"Come in." He reached for the lamp and dimmed the light, knowing that Tucker didn't patch his eye at night.

Tucker was pale and he was visibly shaking. Reed was out of bed in a moment and supporting the engineer until he had him sitting on the bed. "What's wrong? You look as though you'd seen a ghost."

"I dunno…I think…Ah think maybe I _did_." He shuddered and leaned against Reed who took him into his arms without a second thought.

"A dream?"

"I don't think so. I don't think I was even asleep…I…I saw the Cap'n."

Reed drew Tucker closer and rubbed his back in a soothing motion. "Tell me what happened?"

"Well, after you went to bed, I decided I would turn in too." No hint of recrimination in his tone. Tucker drew a deep breath. "I was lyin' there, thinkin' about some things. The mission when the shuttle went down, and I got to thinkin' about the Cap'n and wonderin' how things are back on the ship…" He trailed off and passed a hand over his eyes. "I wasn't asleep, Malcolm, I was awake as I am right here and now… I thought about the ship and my engines and then…I was there."

"What do you mean you were there? Trip that's not possible, it has to have been a dream."

"It was no dream, Malcolm. I was _there_ it was real, but… different." He sighed and shook his head. "I got lookin' around. The engines are different, they've been modified. Not in a bad way…someone's takin' good care of 'em. I was lookin' at the data outputs and readin' the reports, but I couldn't touch anythin' – there was somethin' between them an' me… and then I heard someone walkin' along the access platform and I turned around and there was the Cap'n just as large as life!"

Reed nodded and smiled. "Go on," he said encouragingly, "What happened next?" He decided that it was probably better to just let Tucker get it out of his system.

"Well, I tried to talk to him, but he didn't seem to hear. He started messin' with some reports and such, not seemin' to notice I was there. I got a good look at him. He seemed… older. Real tired too. I could see the lines in his face from worry. I wanted to tell him we're okay, Malcolm. I wanted to let him know that we're alive, and I wanted to ask him why they never came lookin' for us." Tucker paused for a long moment and Reed watched the emotions flicker across the engineer's face.

"I can't figure that out, Malcolm. All this time, and not a sign of 'em – why haven't they come lookin' for us?" He sighed and looked into Reed's eyes. "But then, he turned around and I know he saw me, Malcolm. Every last bit of colour just drained right out of his face and he stood there just starin' at me. I tried to talk to him, let him know it was all okay… but he… he turned around and lit out of there."

Tucker closed his eyes and bowed his head, seeming to struggle with a depth of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. "He ran from me, Malcolm… he must think we're… he must have thought I was a ghost."

"Hush," Reed soothed. "It's all right, everything will be all right, Trip. Don't give up hope." He sighed and closed his eyes as well. Perhaps the truth of their situation was beginning to dawn on Tucker after all. As real as his experience seemed to him, perhaps it was just his mind's way of forcing him to think about these things and begin to adjust to the reality of their plight.

They'd been absent from their ship for nearly two years. Of course, their friends and crewmates would have moved on by now. If they were believed dead, then that would explain why Captain Archer had never come searching for them. He sighed. "You should try to rest, Trip." He said softly. "You've had a trying few weeks. It's not surprising that all of this is catching up with you."

Tucker nodded and then looked up at Reed. "D'you mind if I stay here?" His eyes held a shadowed, haunted gleam and he glanced towards the door for a moment. "I…I don't wanna go back to my own room tonight."

For an instant, Reed tensed. He looked into Tucker's eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

"No, Malcolm, I don't mean that way… I just wanna be with you. Nothin's gonna happen." He spread his hands out, palms up as though to convince Reed of his good intentions and proceeded to curl up at the foot of the bed. "I just don't wanna be alone, is all."

Reed sighed and shook his head. "You can't rest there, Trip, don't be foolish _get_ into bed properly before I am forced to put you in there bodily!"

"Oh! Yeah…" Tucker turned to look at him with a sheepish little smile. "Yes, sir, Mister Morale Officer, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

Personal log, Jonathan Archer, Supplemental...  
  
I don't quite know how to begin this...I haven't spoken about this to  
anyone, not even Phlox. I can't. I'd probably come away from that meeting  
with my system full of sedatives, and some kind advice to rest. After  
all, it's probably common knowledge that I've not been functioning at  
anywhere near 'peak efficiency' as T'Pol would put it. And now... now I'm  
hallucinating.  
  
It had to be my eyes playing tricks on me. I don't believe in ghosts,  
although what I saw, what I think I saw, would fit right into one of Travis'  
space ghost stories.  
  
Captain Archer sighed and reached down to fondle the silky ears of his  
little beagle as he spoke.  
  
"Computer pause... Whaddyou think it was, boy?" He stared into the liquid  
brown eyes of the little dog, watching as Porthos tipped his head to one  
side, then the other. Archer shook his head with another deep sigh and rubbed his face with  
the other hand.  
  
"Computer, resume. Was it Trip? Could it possibly have been my chief  
engineer?  
  
I felt so sure it was him when it happened, but now, just a few hours later,  
I'm beginning to doubt the evidence of my own eyes. I must have imagined it.  
Yet, he seemed so natural there, in engineering where he always loved to be.  
He was standing next to the warp drive and it seemed as though he had been  
standing there watching me for a while. There was such a look of confusion  
and hurt in his eyes - like he wanted to ask me a hundred questions, or  
explain something to me.  
  
I'll admit I was terrified. When he moved towards me, talking in words I  
couldn't hear, my nerves failed me and I got out of there as fast as I  
could."  
  
Archer turned to the viewport, bending forward to lean his hands on the  
window ledge. "It's been almost two years since we lost Shuttlepod One, and  
with her, my two finest officers - my best friend. I thought that I had  
begun to put it all behind me. God knows, I've tried to move on..." He drew  
a long breath. "It seems like I haven't been as successful at that as I thought."   
He stared out into space for a long time without speaking until a subtle chirp   
from the computer alerted him that the recording was still running.  
  
"Computer, end recording."  
  
 _I still wonder, sometimes if we did enough._ Archer stared into  
space, at the stars streaming by as the ship cruised through space. _I wonder  
if we searched hard enough, if we stayed long enough?_  
  
With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the viewport and sat in  
the large chair by his desk, lifting the little beagle into his arms.  
  
"I still can't quite believe they're gone," he murmured. A smile ghosted  
across his lips as Porthos licked his face briefly. With a small shake, the  
captain pushed his gloomy thoughts to the back of his mind. "Hey boy, what  
say we take a walk around the deck before we turn in for the night?"  
  
The happy thumping of Porthos' tail against his ribs at the word 'walk' was  
all the answer Archer needed. He set the dog on the floor and stood up,  
walking out into the corridor as the little dog led the way.  
  
\--/--  
  
"And you say you saw your captain, Tucker?" Shondré was seated on a small  
stool in the engineer's workshop. She studied him carefully as  
she listened, her head inclined slightly to one side.  
  
"Yeah," Tucker said with a nod, "An' it was so _real_ so vivid. Malcolm  
thinks I was dreamin' or at the very least imaginin' things, but I don't  
know, Shondré I've never had any dream, _or_ any daydream like this one!" He  
paced a little, agitation evident in every move. "The captain was right  
 _there_ in front of me." He sighed and moved to another stool, seating  
himself and looking into the healer's eyes.  
  
"Besides," he went on, "If it was some kind of dream, then why did it happen  
that way? Why was Jon... scared of me? Why didn't it just turn into some  
happy buddy buddy reunion kind of thing? He _ran_ from me, Shondré!"  
  
"I do not think you were dreaming, Tucker." The reptilian female stood up, rested   
a hand on his shoulder. "I think something else entirely wass happening, something   
you do not yet understand, but it iss something I think I can assist you with."  
  
"What was it?" Tucker turned to her, hope evident in his gaze. "Did I  
 _really_ go home? Was it real?"  
  
"Not physically, Tucker, but I believe you _did_ go back to your ship in  
some sensse."  
  
Tucker swallowed hard as he absorbed her words. "Then...I gotta go there  
again! I gotta find some way to talk to the Cap'n."  
  
"Patience, Tucker." Shondré gave him an indulgent smile. "Thiss will take  
time, and there iss much that you must learn first." She put one small paw on  
his shoulder. "Always so impetuouss," she murmured. "There iss time for all  
things, you know."  
  
Tucker nodded and let his breath out slowly. "I know, I guess I just get  
carried away. I'll learn whatever you think I need to know...I don't mind  
that, but this could be our ticket home, Malcolm an' me... that's real good  
news."  
  
"The technique I will show you iss not difficult. Once it iss mastered it iss  
very easy to accomplish this 'projection.' Healers have used it for long  
years on thiss world. Until now though, I have never seen the gift outside of  
the healer class... You are the first, Tucker. Perhaps it iss innate in you,  
or perhaps it iss something that has come to you only because of your  
circumstances. However it has happened, it iss a great gift, and you _should_  
learn to use it properly.  
  
Listening to her speech, Tucker frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him.  
"Shondré, will you get into trouble for teachin' me how to do this -  
projection thing?"  
  
The healer sighed and shook her head. "You are perceptive, Tucker."  
She moved back to her seat. "My people, the healers, have certain taboos  
relating to our gifts. You probably realize that not all Zilanthi are mind  
speakers, Tucker." Shondré nodded as he agreed to that. "Only healers seem  
to possess this ability in any real measure, it iss helpful to uss in our  
work, and it iss considered a great honour to have the gift. Our taboos say  
that we must not do anything that would cause one not chosen, to receive the  
gift from uss. It must be something that individual iss born with."  
  
"But you said yourself that I might've been born with it. You said it could  
be innate, right?"  
  
"True, Tucker, but I do not know it of a certainty. I have not had  
opportunity to observe you from childhood to see if the gift was present. In  
short, I cannot prove to my people that you were gifted before I met you.  
Hence, to teach you thiss skill, iss breaking taboo." She smiled and  
reached out her paw. "However, these are my shards to sort."  
  
As he put his hand into her paw she stood, seeming to put more effort than  
usual into the action. "Tomorrow, I will speak with you at more length about  
thiss, and we will attempt some simple exercises." She took a few steps  
towards the door and then she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Have you  
found a way to get your Malcolm to talk to you about what troubles his  
soul?"  
  
"Not yet," Tucker replied. "But I'm workin' on it." He smiled softly. "I  
think he'll tell me soon."


	5. Chapter 5

Malcolm Reed bent over a display console in what amounted to the Zilanthi Operations centre. He frowned at the readouts and glanced at the Zilanthi male standing next to him. "I think…if we adjust this…setting by one tenth we can get a slightly…wider scan," he said in halting Zilanthi. Indicating the setting on the screen, he nodded as the Zilanthi made the slight adjustment. Malcolm watched the readout screen intently and smiled his satisfaction as the sensor relays quickly adjusted to take in a wider area of the planet's surface than it had before.

"That's better," he said nodding his approval to the young male who smiled and turned to another console.

"The relays are running at higher efficiency than they have in years,” Motzosh said, "It is very satisfying to make them so sensitive."

"It's a challenge," Malcolm agreed, "We didn't have… anything like this on the ship I come from…" He tapped some commands into the console he stood by and checked a reading before he turned to another output screen.

Sharing his bed with Charles Tucker was something he would not have imagined doing and yet, waking up with Trip spooned against his back, one arm flung loosely across his waist had been a surprisingly pleasant experience. Reed smiled remembering how Tucker murmured a sleepy complaint when Reed tried cautiously moving.

The engineer wakened slowly, seeming reluctant to stir from his slumber but he quickly moved away from Reed once full lucidity was attained.

"Malcolm, I…I'm sorry!" Tucker stammered, "I didn't mean to…I was…"

Reed chuckled. "It's all right, Trip." He turned onto his back, smiling. "You haven't done anything wrong… in fact, you were the perfect gentleman. Besides," he added, "It's rather nice, having you here."

"Really?" Tucker's answering grin was like sunshine after a thunderstorm and Reed sighed happily.

"I don't think I've slept so well in weeks as I did last night."

"Happy to be of service," Tucker said and sat up on the side of the bed. "How about I fix us some breakfast?"

"Are you sure you can…"

"Malcolm, mah hand's fine, and I think I can see well enough with _two_ eyes to reheat Crellis and butter some bread."

Reed relented with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, very well," he muttered in a longsuffering tone that was belied by the teasing light in his eyes. "If you must!"

"You could _pretend_ to be enthusiastic about it." Tucker got up and made his way to the kitchenette.

==/==

Malcolm sat in his chair outside the door of their burrow. Lazing in the early afternoon sunshine and taking a few moments to wind down. Not that the work on Zilanth was all that taxing. If truth be told, he was running out of tweaks and upgrades to perform on the security grid, which was mildly worrisome. For all Trip’s teasing about Malcolm’s growing domesticity, it was true that he often felt like more of a househusband than a tactical officer. He would soon have nothing to do other than cooking, tending to Trip’s therapy and keeping house.

Whilst it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant prospect, he knew he’d grow bored without more technical work to occupy his mind. _Perhaps Trip can teach me some mechanical skills. There seems to always be something in need of repairs._

Folding his hands behind his head, Malcolm closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift back to the morning. It was nice to have Tucker with him. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been happy to sleep in the same bed with anyone.

Sharing his bed with Charles Tucker was something he would not have imagined doing and yet, waking up with Trip spooned against his back, one arm flung loosely across Malcolm’s waist had been a surprisingly pleasant experience. Reed smiled remembering how Tucker murmured a sleepy complaint when Reed tried cautiously moving.

The engineer wakened slowly, seeming reluctant to stir from slumber but he quickly moved away from Reed once he woke fully.

"Malcolm, I…I'm sorry!" Tucker stammered, "I didn't mean to…I was…"

Reed chuckled. "It's all right, Trip." He turned onto his back, smiling. "You haven't done anything wrong… in fact, you were the perfect gentleman. Besides," he added, "It's rather nice, having you here."

"Really?" Tucker's grin was like sunshine after a thunderstorm and Reed sighed happily.

"I don't think I've slept so well in weeks as I did last night."

"Happy to be of service," Tucker said and sat up on the side of the bed. "How about I fix us some breakfast?"

"Are you sure you can…"

"Malcolm, mah hand's fine, and I think I can see well enough with _two_ eyes to reheat Crellis and butter some bread."

Reed relented with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, very well," he muttered in a longsuffering tone that was belied by the teasing light in his eyes. "If you must!"

"You could _pretend_ to be enthusiastic about it." Tucker got up and made his way to the kitchenette.

Malcolm was brought back to the present by a light tap on his shoulder. He turned and found himself looking into the clear blue eyes of Charles Tucker.

"Oh, there _is_ somebody home," Tucker said with a grin. "I thought you must have gone out and left the lights on."

"Sorry," Reed sighed. "I was wool gathering, didn't hear you coming."

"Well, whatever it was, it sure had you lookin' happier than a pig in mud," Tucker commented.

"Oh, just some rather pleasant memories," Reed said with a smile. "So, what brings you home so early? I _hope_ you didn't go outdoors without your patch on," he added as an afterthought.

"Keep yer shirt on," Tucker quickly broke in. "I came via the labyrinths." He glanced around the small cave they were in. "Are ya busy? I thought we might take off early today, and maybe take a swim…if you want to…" He was suddenly hesitant.

"I'd like that a lot," Reed said. "We haven't been swimming in a good long while, it would be nice to get a change in routine."

"Yeah, an' with all the recipe tradin' you've been doin' you're getting a little pudgy," Tucker playfully poked him in the ribs and then quickly dodged aside as Reed made a grab for him. "No, honest…you wouldn't want me to keep it secret that you're losin' your figure would ya?"

"You are impossible!" Reed lunged again, barely missing landing an open-handed slap on Tucker's rear.

"Impossible? Is that the best y'can do?"

"Impossible! Incorrigible! Insufferable…"

"Irresistible!" Tucker shot back at him.

"Who, you? Irresistible?"

"You."

Reed stared at Tucker in surprised silence for several moments before he whispered. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Th-thankyou."

"Well come on, that water hole's a waitin'." Tucker clapped Reed on the shoulder as they moved towards a tunnel that would take them back to their burrow without going above ground.

"I hope ya swimmin' trunks still fit!" Tucker teased and lit out running as Reed growled and tried to swat him again.

"You're going to pay for that!"

"Gotta catch me first!"

The water hole that Tucker and Reed used for swimming was an underground pool fed by a saltwater bore, it was unfit for drinking and unused by the Zilanthi. The cavern formed a natural arch with a large opening that allowed sunlight to filter in from the planet's surface. Clean and cool, the water was an enticing escape from the desert heat.

Having exhausted themselves with swimming and mock battles in the water the men lay on a large slab of granite next to the pool, sunning themselves and drowsing.

"S'nice here," Tucker murmured sleepily as he rolled onto his back to let the sun reach his belly.

"Mm-hm." Reed slitted one eye open to look at Tucker for a moment, "We should have done this days ago." He sighed happily, closing his eye again, revelling in the warmth of the sun.

Companionable silence reigned for a few minutes before Tucker spoke again. "I saw Shondré this mornin', she came by my workshop for a while…I told her about what happened last night."

"Oh?" Both eyes came open now. "What did she think about it?" Reed hoped that the healer would have told Tucker that his 'vision' in the night was just wishful thinking, or the product of stress.

"She thinks it was real."

He suppressed a groan. "I see." Reed turned onto his side, "Why do I get the feeling you're about to say, or do something crazy?"

"Shondré thinks I have a 'gift.'"

"Right," Sitting up, Reed rested his arms on his knees. "I suppose she is all for you _using_ that gift as well?"

"Malcolm, what is the matter with you? If I can use this some way…if I can get in touch with the Cap'n maybe, we can get off this planet!" Tucker's tone heated up a little as he spoke. "You know, you do this anytime we're in trouble…ya just wanna lie down and give up! You did it on Shuttlepod One way back there when we thought _Enterprise_ was destroyed and here y’are doin' it again!"

"Oh, come on, Trip!" Malcolm shot him a glare. "Don't you even _see_ how ridiculous this sounds? Contacting the ship, I haven't a problem with, but this psychological…clairvoyant mumbo jumbo?"

"It's _not_ mumbo jumbo! Somethin' happened to me last night and it was _real!_ " Tucker paused and took a few deep breaths, visibly struggling to get his temper under control. After a few moments he spoke in a more reasonable tone. "It's a chance, Malcolm, the first one we've had in months…I wanna try. Maybe this'll be our way to get off this planet an' go home."

"Oh! You think it's all so easy, don't you?" Malcolm ran a hand through his damp hair. "You think we're just going to walk back in there and pick up where we left off? You think that after two _years_ with our skills outdated, our jobs filled by others, we can just waltz in there telling them we're back and just _fall_ back into the old routine again?" He shook his head. "I've heard some naive ideas in my time, Commander, but this one just beats them all!"

"The Cap'n…"

"Is nothing if he isn't a smart man, Trip! With all the good intentions and all the friendship in the _world_ he would have to realize that we're not up to speed! Neither one of us is completely fit for duty…there's your hand and eye to consider and I… I have issues of my own…Face it, Trip… we're better off staying right where we are."

Tucker's jaw dropped in amazement and he stared at Reed in stunned silence for several seconds. "You don't wanna go back!"

Reed turned his face away, staring at the sparkling pool.

"You're afraid!"

His head snapped around to glare at Trip. "I'm a realist!"

"Call it what ya want…I'm not givin' up, Malcolm!" Tucker scrambled to his feet and stormed out of the cavern, leaving Reed alone by the pool.


	6. Chapter 6

It was several hours before Tucker returned home. He'd retreated to his workshop after the argument with Reed by the waterhole.

He walked into their burrow to find it quiet and deserted.

Frowning, Tucker searched each of the three rooms and found no trace of Reed.

He was about to go to the operations center to see if the man had returned to work when Reed came in through the entrance tunnel.

Malcolm paused just inside the door when he saw Tucker and made a visible effort to keep his expression neutral.

"Hi," Reed said softly.

"Hi," Tucker replied. Tension crackled in the air between them.

"I'm sor…" Reed began,

"I said some…" Tucker trailed off waiting for Reed to go on but the Lieutenant shook his head and gestured for Tucker to go on.

"I said some stuff back there that was-"

"Perfectly understandable, and if you say uncalled for, you'd be wrong," Reed said. "You're right. I _don't_ want to go back."

Tucker stared at him in silence for a moment, and then, "Why not?" He watched as Reed bowed his head, gnawed at his lower lip.

"I told you why, back there at the pool. I'm… not fit," he said with a sigh."

"All right, I'll accept that since you insist, but what are ya gonna do, Malcolm? You gonna stay here, tinkerin' with sensors that don't even _need_ it? You gonna sit on this planet and waste yourself and your talents on a project that was given to ya just to keep ya busy? Ya gonna 'work' here for the rest of your days not makin' any friends and just moulderin' away in this desert, cause… cause why? Cause you're afraid to go home and _try_ to reclaim your life?"

"I'm _not_ afraid!"

"The hell you ain't!"

"What makes you a fucking expert on me all of a sudden?" Reed snarled.

Tucker was so surprised by the sudden flare of temper and the rare use of a cuss word from Reed, that he blinked and took a half step backwards.

"You think you know all about me… you think you can stand there and make all kinds of judgement calls… let me tell you something, Mister Tucker, you don't know the smallest iota of what is behind my actions! You stand there and tell me I'm afraid, you stand there telling me what a dull, boring existence I have, and you think you have all the answers!" Reed paused, breathing hard, and Tucker could see the tremors that shook the man's slight frame.

He took a deep breath and went on the attack. "Well what the hell did you expect, Malcolm? You clam up anytime I try to get you to tell me somethin' about what's drivin' ya! You won't let me in. You pull yourself in behind your defences and leave me guessin' at what happened to you? Why won't ya just _tell_ me what went on with ya? And then I won't have to _offend_ your goddamned ass by reachin' mah own conclusions!"

Malcolm took a couple of steps towards him, and Tucker was suddenly uneasy. There was a gleam in the blue-grey eyes that he'd never seen before, an expression he didn't like one bit. He swallowed hard but stood his ground, there was no way he would back down to intimidation tactics from anyone, least of all Reed.

"All right, you want to know? Let me _tell_ you…let me detail it all in living color for you! Take a seat, _M_ _ister_ Tucker!" The word _mister_ was punctuated by a shove to his chest that sent him into a chair with an audible thump.

"You keep pushing me and pushing me, well HERE's what it was like, little Mister. Sunshine, HERE's what you want to know. See if you want to know so damn badly after I tell you how they tore me apart night after night. How they tried their best to cook my bloody brains, how I was dragged back to my stinking little pallet in what amounted to a _prison_ night after night, bleeding and only half alive… and how they would patch me together again ready for the next round!"

Tucker shook his head in confusion. "Cook your brains? What do you mean? Tore you apart… Malcolm you said you were a servant…what what kind of…?"

"Shut up!" Reed almost screamed it. "By God will you just shut up and _listen,_ Trip!

Tucker passed his tongue across suddenly parched lips and nodded, bowing his head as he braced himself to hear things that he sensed he was going to wish he'd never heard.

"You remember I told you that I lost my memory while I was on Clinarin II?" Reed waited until Tucker nodded mutely and then went on. "Well, I _didn't_ lose it, it was _taken_ from me! They put…implants in my skull that made me forget who I was, that stole my power of speech and…and that's not the _worst_ of it by a long way, Trip! No. There's more! They added another one that could be used to inflict the fury of hell on my senses if I disobeyed."

Tucker closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't brought on this precipitation of words. Wishing with everything in him that he didn't have to hear it, and yet he knew that it was necessary, that Reed needed to let it out. To articulate the horror and face it.

He thought back to the day when Shondré had first removed the bandages from his eyes, and her gentle words. _We will find out together, and we will face it._ Malcolm had been there for him that day, and for all the hellish days of pain and misery that led up to it. He owed Reed nothing less in return. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his head and met Malcolm's eyes.

"Yer _brain_ , Malcolm? They stuck things in yer _brain_ and you never thought that was worth mentioning to me?"

Reed snorted and Tucker saw a twitch run through the man as his eyes darkened with some indecipherable emotion.

"Just what was I supposed to tell you, Trip? Polite anecdotes about the Duchess of Planet Utopia and her blue-eyed offspring?" He shook his head and paced back and forth like a caged animal.

"There was nothing like that in my world on Clinarin II! Nothing of gentility, nothing of civilization. _Nothing_ gentle or kind or…tender." He stopped pacing and was silent for so long that Tucker wondered if there was going to be any more.

"Nothing…just pain and humiliation and…"

"Malcolm?"

Reed didn't seem to hear him, and then he spoke again, taking another angle that seemed at first to be completely unrelated.

"Do you remember the flowers on the dinner table the night before you took ill, the red flowers? What they _really_ reminded me of with their color? I looked at those flowers and I wanted to crush them under my feet, but I didn't because you love them so much. The first time I saw one of those flowers I thought of the time I was punished for ruining a new pair of silken dancing pants. "They were covered in the same bright red color as your lovely flowers, Mister. Tucker. I look at _flowers_ and I see blood and endless humiliation and pain."

Tucker wanted to cover his ears. He wanted to grab Reed and clamp a hand over the man's mouth, anything. He would do anything not to have to hear the bitter pain in the man's voice, the cold, detached way that he related the details of a life that had to be a living hell. Trip suppressed a sob of anguish, contrasting his own life here on Zilanth with the torment Reed faced. _And I left him to face it alone…I ran off and left him to that fate. I was his commanding officer and I deserted him._

"They never left a mark on my face, you know?" Reed let out a bitter, twisted little snort of mirthless laughter. "Not once did they ever leave a bruise or so much as a scratch on my face. When I was handed over to whoever Schylar decided was most deserving of my company, they could do anything _anything_ they wanted as long as I was still pretty enough to be put on display in the banqueting hall! If I failed to please any guest of the consulate, any of that dirt walking on two legs -- and sometimes _more_ , Tucker! -- do you know what they did to me? Shock to the brain! Lightning bolt inside the one thing I still possessed, whatever mind I had left after they got finished with me for the night. Believe me, Trip. By the time they finished with me, I was well and _truly_ finished."

Tucker swallowed hard and leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands, powerless to do anything other than let Reed go on with the story.

"I was nothing to them…no more than some little animal one keeps around because it’s pretty or entertaining. A little songless, flightless bird in that luxurious cage."

Another long pause. Trip looked up. Reed stood in the middle of the room, gazing into some distant scene only he could see. His eyes moved as through tracking movements, watching a scene unfold.

Trip drew a breath, parted his lips to speak, but Malcolm cut in.

“I danced. I was a _good_ dancer. I learned the steps and I practiced until I was the most talented dancer Schylar possessed, because if I danced well and I pleased him, sometimes he would let me have a respite. There would be no pain…I could rest and try to recover ready for the next time I was summoned.

“They fit slaves with the... _inhibitors,_ they call them. Devices that strip their old lives away and make them happy to be slaves. _Happy!_ Do you know why I'm here with you today, Tucker? Only because I hadn't enough working fore brain left to figure out how to end it."

Tucker closed his eyes. He let the tears flow as the injured man - and he was injured - as surely as Tucker had been when Shuttlepod One went down, continued, relating the events of Clinarin II as though they had happened to someone else.

Tucker wept for the man who could not seem to feel the horror of what had happened to him. Trip shook with the sobs that Reed held back. His heart broke for the agony that Reed had suffered and had compartmentalized into something clinical and cold. He ached at the cold detachment in Reed's tone and wondered how in heaven's name they would ever reach that bleeding core to even begin to heal it. Wondered too, if it were even _possible_ for Reed to heal. How does anyone come back from that?

After a while, Tucker got to his feet. He went to Reed and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Reed shied away as though the light touch had sparked a shock. His eyes were wide and wild, and he stared blindly, his body shaken with violent tremors.

"Please, don't hurt me anymore…I … I'll do what you want, I'll do anything…just please, please don't hurt me!"

Tucker watched in horrified silence as Reed sank down to his knees before him and bowed with his forehead touching the floor.

"NO! Oh God, Malcolm. No!" Tucker dropped to his knees, reached out to touch Reed's shoulder. "It's me, Trip, remember? I'm good ol' Charles Tucker, an' NO ONE, Ah mean no one, is ever gonna hurt you again. Malcolm, yer safe, _you are safe_. They're gone, they're all gone -" 

"NO!" Reed jerked his head up, coming out of the flashback but still terrified. Dysphasia, worse than Trip had ever seen it since Malcolm came back to him, impeded the man's speech as he turned his face away, stammering out his denial.

"Th- they'rrre Al-l-l-ways with me! In m-m-my _head_! They n-never st-stop! Phlox removed th' w-w-ires but they keep coming _back_! _I'll Nev-er_ be free! Oh God, you rescued me b-b-b-b-but you and the Capt-ain couldn't make me whole! I'm so f-f-f-rightened! _me_! The Armory Officer! I had all the moves, the tr-training, the ins-tincts, and they put _wires_ in my head, Trip! _wi-wires_! They turned on the current and I didn't remember who I was, what I was do-ing, I didn't _know!_ You can't imag-ine what it was like not to have a soul not to think ex-cept what you would do next and how far you would go not to _dis-please_ your masters and have that current _turned on!_ " 

He pulled away from Tucker, sat on his heels in what Tucker realized must have been a slave posture. 

"MALCOLM! STOP THAT! Yer not a slave. Come sit on th' couch with me, that's an order." Without realizing it, Tucker slipped into command mode but Reed didn't move, he knelt there, trembling. Lost in some terrible place that Tucker couldn't reach.

"I c-c-can't go b-b-back, Trip…I c-can't I'm r-ruined…I c-can't even sleep without…without the …light. I see them…I feel them – t-touching m-me…I … oh Christ…I want to die!"

"You survived, Malcolm," Tucker murmured. "You're alive and you're not ruined…none of that…nothing they did, touched you where it matters." He let tears flow down his cheeks unchecked as he did the best he knew how, to reach the suffering man. "You're still the man I love. I wish…God Ah wish ya coulda trusted me sooner and told me…we coulda…we coulda faced this together, you didn' have ta fight these things alone, Malcolm."

"I survived…yes. I survived but it wasn't _my_ doing…the only mercy the Clinarins did me…the only piece of kindness was in wiping out my memory of who and what I was before we crashed. They turned me into a soulless animal who had no instinct beyond the basic will to live…and that's the _only_ thing I can thank them for. Because if _Malcolm Reed_ had to face that life he would _not_ have survived!"

"Maybe that's so and maybe it isn't," Tucker said softly, "But ya don't ever have to face anythin' alone again, Malcolm. I won't ever leave ya to face things on your own again…I…I love you Malcolm, and I know you've got it in you to get past this. Don't give up…help me to find a way home…I need ya."

Reed didn't say anything for a long time. He was so still that Tucker wondered if he had even heard a word he'd said. He tentatively reached out and took hold of the other man's hand. "I know it's hard for you to trust anyone right now…but please…try to trust me."

Reed's head came up and he looked into Tucker's eyes "I _do_ trust you, Trip," he said softly. "I do. You're the only person I feel I _can_ trust and I…I'm grateful." He drew a deep prolonged sigh, and a shudder ran through him, but he gripped Tucker's hand a little tighter. "I just can't make any decisions right now. I think…I think I would like to sleep." A small hesitation and then he got to his feet, still holding Tucker's hand and drawing the engineer up with him. "Would you stay with me again tonight?"

"O'course I will, Malcolm, you don't even need t'ask." Tucker replied.

"Thank you."

Still hand in hand, the pair made their way into Malcolm's bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm clouds are gathering.
> 
> \--/--

"Focus, Tucker," Shondré said. Her three fingered paws rested lightly against the blond head, augmenting his mental abilities with her own, but only touching lightly. "You are getting stronger at thiss. Tell me what you ssee, where are you?"

"I don't see anythin'!" Tucker's voice was strained, hoarse. "I'm tryin' really, but I…wait…" He hesitated, screwing his eyes shut even tighter. "I see somethin' lights…flashin' lights and…my engines!" His voice took on an exultant note. "I see my engines! I got back there again."

"Good…now try to make physical contact, touch…perhaps thiss time, the barrier will be weaker." Shondré closed her eyes, moving with him through the hazy world his mind occupied. "Move around, look at thingss, try to touch, make it real, Tucker."

Inside his mind, but aboard _Enterprise_ Charles Tucker walked around, it looked like Engineering was on delta shift, not many staff on duty, or maybe that was just because things were so hazy, maybe they were there but he couldn't see them.

He could hear this time though. The faint pulse of the warp reactor reached his ears as though heard through several decks. He walked towards a ladder, reaching one hand out to touch it. Almost. It had substance, but it felt spongy. He made a small sound of exasperation.

"That iss an improvement, Tucker." Shondré's gentle encouragement washed away his doubt.

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay," he turned to move back in the direction he'd come, and then he saw movement near the hatch that led from the upper decks.

"Porthos!" Trip called the name of the little beagle as the dog trotted through the door, closely followed by Captain Archer. "Jon!"

Porthos paused at the hatch for a moment, his head snapping around in Tucker's direction. He let out a yip and ran across the deck to Tucker's feet.

"Hiya, boy!" Tucker hunkered down, attempting to touch the dog, and made shadowy contact. "I've missed ya too!" He chuckled, running his fingers across the whisper of fur marveling at the contact. Lifting his gaze from the dog, he found himself staring into the bemused green eyes of the Captain. "Jon!" he straightened up. "C’n you hear me?"

The Captain shook his head. "Trip?" Archer spoke uncertainly. "Is it you, Trip?"

"Jon! Jon, it's me, I…" Tucker let out his breath in a frustrated rush as the image before him began to fade. "No!"

"You are tiring," Shondré said as she withdrew her contact from his mind. "Enough for now."

\--/--

Jonathan archer stared in surprise as Porthos took off across the deck when they walked into engineering, He called to the dog, but there was no stopping him. The beagle made a beeline for the warp reactor and stopped short. Archer saw the shadowy figure of Trip Tucker hunkering down to fondle the dog's head. He watched, fascinated, unaware that he was moving towards his pet and the image of his best friend.

Stopping next to Porthos, Archer stared at the two of them in silence until Tucker looked up and their eyes met.

"Trip?" It seemed strange to speak that name aloud after so many months. "Is it you, Trip?" He had to know.

The apparition straightened up, speaking quickly, although Archer couldn't pick up what the man was saying, and moments later Tucker faded away.

Hunkering down, Archer took Porthos, who sniffed at the floor where Tucker had stood a moment before into his arms.

"You saw him too, didn't you? He touched you!"

Archer glanced around the room, his eyes taking in the engines quietly throbbing as the ship continued her course as though nothing had happened. He frowned and absently scratched Porthos' ears. "You saw him too," he murmured and then, carrying his pet in his arms, the captain turned and headed back to his quarters.

\--/--

"Why is it so _hard_?" Tucker leaned back, looking into Shondré's eyes as he spoke. "I can't really touch anythin' and I can't make Jon hear me!"

"It iss because you make it difficult, Tucker," Shondré said. "This iss not a difficult skill, but it iss a different perception…you try so hard, when in fact all you need to do, iss _be_ in that place."

Tucker sighed and shook his head. "How?"

"How would you have been in the engine room in your old life? How would you have got there."

Tucker snorted, "Easy… just walk on in." He paused, "Is that what you're tellin' me here? I gotta find some way just to walk in there?"

She nodded, "You push too hard, Tucker, you must learn to accept what you see, believe in where you are." She patted him on the shoulder and got to her feet. Moving to the cooler, she took out a pitcher of water. "This man you see in the engine room, he iss someone close to you."

"The captain." Tucker replied. "My best friend."

"You share a bond with him, Tucker, it will be…useful."

"A bond?"

"Yess, your minds are linked in some way. Perhaps because of your friendship."

Tucker nodded, "Yeah, we go back a long way." He trailed off, thinking of another time when he had felt a deeper bond with Jonathan Archer. "There was somethin' else," he said.

Shondré handed him a cup of water and resumed her seat.

"We were…joined once…we could read each other's thoughts." He watched as a spark of interest kindled in the healer's eyes. "A creature got aboard our ship…" Briefly, he detailed to her, the events in Cargo Bay 2 when the alien creature had captured Archer, Tucker and several other crew members. "I knew what he was thinkin' – about the water polo, and it helped to keep me from panickin'," Tucker said and then took a sip of the cool liquid in his cup. "It was…strange…we never talked about it much after that."

"Whyever not?" Shondré seemed shocked. "This creature bestowed a gift on you that it would seem iss rare in your species, and you chose to ignore it?"

"Yeah… I guess humans are like that," Tucker nodded. "We tend to gloss over things that make us uncomfortable."

"Yess…I have observed thiss with Reed." Shondré sighed, her amber eyes reflective. "Nevertheless, this bond may serve our purpose, Tucker. We will try thiss again tomorrow."

Draining the last of the water from the cup, Tucker got to his feet. The mention of Reed's name made him conscious of the time. 

Reed had fallen into an exhausted slumber the previous night after the outpouring of all his torments at the hands of the Clinarins and had been disinclined to get up that morning. Tucker left him to sleep and came to speak with Shondré, telling the healer of the previous night's breakthrough before they had turned their attention to his attempt to contact _Enterprise_.

"I should be gettin' back Malcolm might be awake…"

"Yess, Tucker, go to him," Shondré said with a nod. "He needs you. Now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **The opinions on suicide expressed in this chapter are those of the character at THAT moment and do not reflect the  
>  personal beliefs of the author (and probably not of the character when he's in a more rational state of mind).  
> Please remember that this is fiction.**
> 
> * * *

Malcolm lay in bed feigning sleep until some minutes after he heard Trip leave, and then he rolled onto his back and cast the blankets aside with a groan. He couldn't bear their weight any longer. They felt too heavy, cutting off his air. He covered his eyes with both hands.  
  
"God..." he whispered. "Dear God...what a fool I am!"  
  
The night had passed in a haze of flashbacks and nightmares. What little sleep he found was filled with nameless terrors. Punctuated by the gentle hands of Charles Tucker soothing him, stroking his forehead, fingers running gently through his hair, and the constant repetition of Tucker's voice.  
  
"I'm sorry Malcolm, I'm so sorry... I'm here, I'm with you... I'm never gonna leave ya..."  
  
Reed groaned and turned onto his side, burying his face against the pillow. "Why did I say anything? Why did I tell him?" He clenched his hands into fists and screwed his eyes shut. _I can't bear to look at him...I can't bear to see his pity...his disgust. What am I going to do?_  
  
His thoughts had run on the same track for hours now. In the darkness of night, it was easier. He could hide away, burying his face against the engineer's chest, taking comfort in the sound of another heart beating, but when morning came and the solar powered lamps lit their room... Malcolm wanted nothing more than to hide away from the pitying blue eyes he knew he would meet if he dared look.  
  
 _He told me it would help me to talk about it. I didn't have to bear this burden alone, he said...and yet even though I've told him... even though he knows all of it, I feel no better. I feel no less soiled. I don't feel cleansed or redeemed or..._  
  
Reed sat up with a sound approximating a growl and paced to the bathroom. Catching sight of himself in the mirror he stopped, staring at the painfully thin, haggard face that gazed back at him with soulless eyes.  
  
"He loves me?" He voiced the thought aloud. "How could anyone love this? God, not even my own _parents_ love me. No one has ever _loved_ me... they've all felt sorry for me, or... used me to their own ends. I am not someone that anyone loves." He turned away from his reflection, forgetting that he'd wanted to use the head. His restless feet carried him through the bedroom and into the living area. The scene of his unmasking the night before. He felt he could smell his own wretchedness.  
  
"Trip doesn't need me now anyway." He reasoned as his eyes fell on the cabinet of medicines Phlox had left them. "He's well, and strong now. He can hold his own here, or perhaps he will find a way home... Trip will always survive, he bounces." Reed sighed. "He bounces, while I shatter."  
  
A smile played around the corners of Reed's mouth. He knew what he needed to do. He knew how to ease the pain and how, once and for all, to silence the monsters in his head.  
  
"It's so simple!" He chuckled to himself as he moved to open the cabinet, using the code Phlox had given him. "I can't imagine why I never thought of it before!" His trembling fingers selected a hypospray and then unerringly located the analgesic he required. He loaded the ampoule into the canister and drew a deep breath.  
  
"Not here..." some voice of caution warned him. "Not here...I need to find another place...somewhere...further away."  
  
Smiling serenely, Malcolm Reed left the burrow and made his way through the underground corridors Trip called the labyrinths to the swimming pool.  
  
  
\--/--  
  
Tucker half jogged across the sand towards his home. His heart pounded. _Go to him, Tucker, he needs you now._ Had he imagined the extra weight behind Shondré’s words? Trip muttered a curse and fairly sprinted the last few yards to their doorway.

"Malcolm!"  
  
He lost his footing in the sudden shift of light as he entered the burrow and half ran, half tumbled the length of the burrow, arriving in the living room in a rush of flailing arms and legs.

"Malcolm!"  
  
There was no answer and he bolted for the bedroom, finding the rumpled bed vacated.  
  
Adrenaline flooded his system and Tucker gasped for breath, frantically searching the small dwelling, calling Malcolm’s name in increasingly panicked tones.  
  
Returning to the living area he looked around hoping for some clue that would tell him where Reed could have gone. He took in the open medicine cabinet.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
Reed would never usually leave that cabinet open. It was simply not in him to do something so discordant with protocol. "MALCOLM!" He ran for the subterranean exit. Reed had to have gone that way, he _knew_ it and yet he couldn't have explained how he knew.  
  
Pausing in the tunnel, Tucker looked left and right, one way led to  
operations, the other, he knew led to their underground swimming pool. He passed his tongue across his lips, thinking hard. "Which way? Which way?" he muttered and then turned in the direction of the operations centre.  
  
After a few paces, Tucker stopped, glancing back over his shoulder; his breath laboured, he trembled from head to toe. "Malcolm... where'd you go?" He glanced in the direction of the operations centre once more and then shook his head. "No...not work..." he turned breaking into a headlong sprint along the tunnel, navigating by feel more than sight as his mind reeled with the possibilities that open medicine cabinet presented.

  
  
\--/--

  
  
Reed stood by the pool, staring into the clear depths of the water. The sun filtering in through the open arch of stone overhead, glanced off little wavelets on the surface and filled the cavern with dancing light.

  
It was such a lovely place. So quiet and serene. He stepped into the water, standing ankle deep on a shelf of rock near the edge. He looked at the hypo. He was at peace. Everything had a tranquil feel. The sunlight, the water, the smooth feel of the metal canister in his hand. Reed raised the hypospray and gently pressed it against the major blood vessel in his neck.  
  
"I'm sorry, Charles," he whispered. "I... can't do this anymore... I've never been strong, never been... brave... not the way people always thought I was. I was only pretending... but I can do this. I have the courage to do _this_!" He gently depressed the release mechanism on the hypospray.  
  
Closing his eyes, he waited for the cool hiss as the drug was discharged into his system. It didn't come. Frowning, he took the device down from his neck and stared at it. He didn't understand.  
  
"MAALLCOLLM!"  
  
"Trip?" He looked towards the sound of that desperate cry an instant before a solid weight hit him and both men were sent reeling into the depths of the pool. Malcolm struggled a moment unsure which way was up. He felt the hypospray slip from his fingers under the water.  
  
For an instant, he wanted to follow it, but then self preservation took over and he flailed blindly trying to orientate himself and find the surface. His lungs began to scream for oxygen and he frantically held onto Tucker as he felt the man's strong arms go around him dragging him up into the light and air.  
  
They surfaced spluttering and Tucker struck out for the edge of the pool still dragging Reed with him until they both found rocks under their feet.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Reed?" Tucker shook him. "Of all the fucking stupid...gutless... dammit I oughta...!" Tucker gripped his shoulders in a painful hold and stared into his eyes, the clear blue ones snapping with fury..  
  
"I...I...oh, God..." A shudder ran through Reed and he looked away. "I'm sorry..."  
  
"Yer sorry...yer _sorry_? When the fuck are you gonna quit bein' _sorry_ and start pullin' yerself together?" Tucker let him go with a shove towards the dry ground at the side of the pool. "Get your _sorry_ ass out of here!"  
  
Reed dragged himself out of the water, hampered a little by his sodden clothing. He sat panting for a moment, and then slowly got to his feet and stood to attention.  
  
A moment later, Tucker stood in front of him. "Lookit me, Lieutenant!" There was no mistaking nor ignoring the note of command. He raised his eyes and met the furious blue gaze of the other man.  
  
"Sir!"  
  
"That was a damn fool thing t'do, Reed," Tucker ground out between clenched teeth. He stared the smaller man down for several beats. "Okay you've been through hell I'll grant ya that! NO one should have t'face the stuff ya went through and yeah I cried for ya...I'll probably do my share o'cryin over ya, but when the hell are you gonna straighten up and live again?" He paused and pushed a hand through his dripping hair. "You almost _killed_ yourself Malcolm! How could y'do that?" He was beside himself, shaking with adrenaline fueled fury. "How c'd y' even _think_ of lettin' the bastards win?"  
  
"I'm s..."  
  
Tucker gripped the front of Reed's shirt. "Don't you dare tell me one more time how sorry y’are! I don't wanna _hear_ sorry!"  
  
"Yes, sir." The words were spoken in such an undertone that Tucker almost didn't hear them.  
  
With a shake of his head Tucker took a step back. "Let's go home, Malcolm..." He gently propelled the by now shivering man towards the access tunnel. "You're gonna get a chill here."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **The opinions on suicide expressed in this chapter are those of the character at THAT moment and do not reflect the  
>  personal beliefs of the author (and probably not of the character when he's in a more rational state of mind).  
> Please remember that this is fiction.**
> 
> * * *

"Why, Malcolm?" Tucker rounded on his companion as soon as they gained the privacy of their own burrow. "That's all Ah wanna know…Why?"

"I... I don't know why." Malcolm paced across the room and shut the medicine cabinet, a shudder running through him as he stood there with his hand resting against the door for a moment. "It seemed _right_."

"Right? What are you insane?" Tucker blew his breath out between his lips. "How in the Sam Hill could _killin'_ yourself seem right?" He strode across the room and grabbed Reed's arm, swinging the smaller man around to face him. "Nothin' is worth that! NOTHIN'!"

Reed closed his eyes as another chill ran through him. The water in the pool was cold and the air in the caves was not much warmer. He hugged his arms close to his body and rubbed his hands over them to warm himself.

The action seemed to calm Tucker somewhat. "You need to get outta them wet clothes," he said, his tone a little more level than it had been.

"Yes, sir," Reed answered meekly and headed for his bedroom.

"Malcolm?" Tucker waited until the man turned to look at him. "We need to talk when you're done, an' I'm not takin' no for an answer."

Reed nodded and turned away.

After Reed left the room, Tucker moved to the medicine cabinet and keyed in a few commands which the locking unit acknowledged with muted chirps. "I'm sorry, Malcolm, but I can't let somethin' like this happen again." Having changed the access code, he went to his own room. He needed a change of clothes himself and there was a lot he needed to think about.

The thought that Reed had become so desperate that the only option that seemed viable to him was suicide had rattled the engineer more than he cared to admit and he was not sure how to deal with the problem.

Back on _Enterprise_ , the man would be confined to sickbay. That wasn’t possible here. Tucker couldn't watch Reed round the clock and he didn't know of anyone else who could.

He sighed as he stripped out of his sodden clothes, tossing them into a hamper in the bathroom.

He searched through a chest of drawers for clean shirt and trousers. 'I need to come up with some way to keep him occupied, somethin' for him t'do so he's not constantly brooding on things,' he pondered as he dressed.

Then there was the matter of the hypospray Reed had lost. Under normal circumstances, it would seem trivial. Something to be taken out of a crewmember's salary, but this situation was far from normal. The hypo was one of only two that Phlox had provided to them before the Terran _Enterprise_ left. Hyposprays were not a common commodity on Zilanth, and Tucker felt that he couldn't allow the loss to pass unremarked. He gnawed on his lower lip as he considered all these things, but there was one thing that gave him a glimmer of hope.

He remembered Reed's reaction to the use of his last name. It seemed to center the man and give him a point of reference. He had immediately slipped into duty mode and for the first time in days he had _listened_ to what Tucker was saying. It was a small spar in a sea of uncertainty, but it was a spar Tucker had to grasp.

As first officer on _Enterprise,_ Tucker had always employed a _laissez faire_ leadership style. Command was not his first career track, and in fact he felt he had only been given the position of first aboard _Enterprise_ due to his friendship with Jon Archer, but something told him that laid back approach wouldn't work here. Reed needed firm guidelines and clear-cut boundaries. The man had lost confidence in his own abilities and it was going to take more than a little work to help him regain it. Tucker nodded as he reached a resolution.

Moving to the desk at the side of his room he picked up a datapad and began to compose a list. When he was done, he dug through a drawer until he found the three platinum rank pips from his now lost uniform. He affixed them to his shirt before he stepped into the living room.

Reed was sitting on the sofa. He looked up and instantly stood to attention when his eyes fell on the pips. He squared his shoulders, raised his chin staring stoicly into the middle distance when Trip stopped in front of him.

Tucker didn’t release him. He handed him the PADD and watched as Malcolm read it.

"What's this?" Reed looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

"You can see what it is, Lieutenant, it's a duty list. I want you to find the components I've listed, and I want you to bring them to my workshop...and I expect a full report from you each day at 18:00 hours. Understood?"

Reed blinked a few times, re-reading the list and then looked up and nodded. "Understood, sir."

"An' in your downtime, L’tenant, you're goin' to build a hypospray to replace the one that was lost through your negligence."

"Yes, sir." Reed straightened a little, slipping his hands behind his back, still holding the PADD in his right hand. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"That's all, Lieutenant. I suggest you get to work." Tucker clapped the man on the shoulder. "Those parts shouldn't be too hard to source. I'm sure you'll find some fellas around here willing to help y'out."

"Aye, sir." Reed said. his voice taking on a semblance of his former clipped tones.

Tucker nodded, suppressing a smile. _By god I think this just might work_. He watched Reed heading for the entrance tunnel his grey-blue eyes busily scanning the datapad, his expression suddenly intense and alive.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **The opinions on suicide expressed in these chapters are those of the character in THAT moment, and do not in any way reflect the personal beliefs of the author. They probably don't truly reflect Trip Tucker's opinions either, but he was under duress.**
> 
> **  
>  Please remember this is fiction!  
>  **
> 
> * * *

The silence at dinner that night was palpable. Tucker glanced across the table at his companion.

Reed stirred the mashed vegetables with his fork for about the hundredth time. He had not met the engineer's eyes once since before he'd left to start gathering the parts Tucker wanted, and he had given monosyllabic replies to Trip’s attempts at conversation.

  
With a sigh, Tucker laid down his fork. "What, Malcolm?"  
  
"Sir?" Reed raised his eyes to somewhere around the middle of Tucker's chest.  
  
"Are you gonna tell me what's on yer mind?"  
  
There was a long drawn silence while Reed continued to toy with his dinner and then laid his fork on the plate. "I was wondering, Sir, if all of my off time is to be spent on the project you set me, or if I might continue swimming? I would like to keep in shape, sir."  
  
"No dice, Malcolm. The pool's off limits at all times unless I'm with ya." He paused, watching Malcolm's reaction.  
  
"I thought as much, sir. Never mind. Thank you, sir."  
  
"Lieutenant, do me the courtesy of lookin' me in mah eye, if yer gonna insist on protocol!"  
  
Reed's gaze flickered to Tucker's face for an instant. "I'm the armoury officer," he said. "I need to keep fit, sir. I'm no good to _Enterprise_ if I am out of shape."  
  
"An' yer no good to _anyone_ dead!" Tucker stared him down across the table. "What'd ya expect, Malcolm? Ya tried to _kill_ yourself! Ya can't be trusted unsupervised!"  
  
" _You_ tried to kill yourself once, Mister Tucker! I didn't see anyone playing minder to you forever after!"  
  
"That was a hundred times different to what's goin on here and _you_ know it!"  
  
"Was it? It didn't seem so to me! You were bound and determined to take your own life. I didn't make a fuss over it...I didn't even _tell_ anyone I most _certainly_ didn't become your personal prison warder!"  
  
"Oh that's a laugh!"  
  
"I don't see anything amusing about it!"  
  
"You wouldn't! You're so determined to hold an eternal pity party for yaself that you can't even _see_ how ..."  
  
"Pity party?!" Reed's eyes came to meet Tucker's now. Cold anger glinted in their depths. "Is that how you see it? Is that what you think?" He was almost spluttering. "I'm not asking for _much_ Commander! A daily swim to keep myself in shape is not the earth exactly, is it?"  
  
"Hell, Malcolm!" Tucker was suddenly impatient. "I didn't say you can't ever go swimmin'! I _said_ ya can't go swimmin' alone!"  
  
"Oh marvelous! And when do you ever have time to 'accompany' me? You're always working or off with your Zilanthi pals! I spend hours here alone every day!"  
  
That hit home. Tucker lowered his gaze to his plate. He had to admit there was a lot of truth in Reed's words. He tended to bury himself in work or socialize with Shondré and the others and perhaps Reed had a right to feel neglected. He bit his lip and looked up. "Not anymore, Malcolm...I'm gonna make time to spend with ya...if you wanna go swimmin' we'll go."  
  
"Oh what do you care?" The words were flung with such bitterness that Tucker gasped.  
  
"I _do_ care!" He came to his feet and leaned across the table. "All of this is because I _care_ , Malcolm! I've told ya again and again how much I care about ya and what did I get in return? _Nothin’_! That's what!" He locked eyes with the man as Reed looked up sharply. "I can handle it that you're still in love with Jon," he said. "I can cope with that...but there's no way Ah'm gonna let ya lay down like some snivellin' coward and just give up!"  
  
"I don't..."  
  
"Give it up, Malcolm! I _know_ you're just itchin' to get outta my sight so you can..."  
  
"You're wrong!" Reed said. "I _don't_ love Captain Archer!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I gave that romantic notion up long ago." Reed looked away. "It wasn't ever anything more than that. He was an unattainable dream... if anything I had a bad case of hero worship."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
Silence stretched between them for some time as Tucker absorbed that.  
  
After a few minutes, Reed left the table and moved to a workbench, starting work on building the hypospray. He worked in silence and Tucker watched him for a while, noting the tension in Malcolm's shoulders were as he bent over his task.  
  
He approached Reed and almost timidly reached out with both hands. He set them on the other man's shoulders and began to knead.  
  
Reed paused what he was doing, a fine screwdriver poised in his long slim fingers. He tensed even more if it were possible.  
  
"You got some knots here, Malcolm," Tucker said, "Relax...let's see if I can work some of 'em out."  
  
Nodding, Reed resumed his work and a little of the tension eased out of his shoulders.  
  
"Did I ever tell ya where that sayin' of my Granpa's came from?"  
  
"Which saying?" Reed didn't look up from his work on the delicate mechanism for the new hypospray.  
  
"The one about holes in fences openin' on both sides."  
  
"No. I don't think you did."  
  
Tucker smiled, his fingers continuing to gently ease the knots out of Reed's shoulders. "Man! I remember that day as if it happened just yesterday...I was about nine years old Ah think, and me an' my cousin Matthew were always gettin' into stuff we didn't have any business messin' with..."  
  
"Oh so nothing's changed, then?" Reed's tone was mildly amused.  
  
"Yeah..." Tucker frowned. "Well anyway, it was Thanksgivin' and the church put on this big picnic...we went every year, Gramma insisted...kind of a tradition thing...and Matthew and me found this fence with a hole in it. We could hide out there and get away from all the grown-up stuff and spy on folks..."  
  
"Sounds perfect," Reed made an adjustment to the hypospray and Tucker nodded, noting that the tension in the muscles had lessened.  
  
"So Matthew had this slingshot..."  
  
"Uh-oh..."  
  
"He said he would bet me anythin' he could fire a stone right above Grampa's head and no one would be the wiser..." Tucker's fingers worked their way along the sides of Malcolm's neck as he continued his tale. "So he fired it, but I got real nervous...and I bumped his elbow...the shot went wide and hit the back of Reverend Rae's head...at first we thought we would catch a lickin' for _that_ but that ain't the worst of it...seems the ol' reverend wore a toupee...it came off and landed right smack on top of the Turkey that he was about to carve..."  
  
Reed gave a muted chuckle. "Good Lord!"  
  
"That's _exactly_ what _he_ said!" Tucker laughed. "An' Malcolm if it came down ta stakes on whether the Reverend or the Turkey looked better in that hair piece? My money's on the bird.  
  
This time, Malcolm’s laughter was genuine and unrestrained. He turned to look up at Tucker, his eyes dancing with it.  
  
Tucker's smile faded a little as he stared into Malcolm's eyes, wondering at the sudden transformation. His fingers left Malcolm's shoulder and ghosted across his cheek as the mood changed.  
  
Slowly, cautiously, Tucker leaned in until his lips brushed against Reed's. As he made to draw back, Malcolm made a small sound of protest and then, breathtakingly, Reed's hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him in as frantic lips captured his in a searing, soul scorching kiss. Tucker moaned and parted his lips to a questing tongue, closing his eyes as Reed took control, pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around him and plundering his mouth with lips, tongue and gently nipping teeth.  
  
Their tongues met and slid against each other in a dance as the half assembled hypospray clattered to the floor and Tucker found himself pulled into Reed's lap. He was incapable of coherent thought, unaware of his surroundings as the kiss deepened and his world was all Malcolm. Malcolm's lips, his hands, and the warmth of his body.  
  
The need for oxygen finally drove them apart but Malcolm didn't let him go. Trip stared into glazed blue-gray eyes, speechless and shaken by that kiss.  
  
He swallowed. "M-Malcolm..."  
  
Malcolm shook his head and pressed a finger to Tucker's lips. "I love… _you_.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm decides to end the pain once and for all.

Awake in the darkness, long after Tucker had fallen asleep, Reed lay on his back staring into the pitch black of their sleeping cave. He drew a deep breath and let it out.

The past few days had been some of the worst of his life. Particularly the day that he had decided that the only solution to his problem was death. Perhaps Tucker was right when he said that was a cowardly act. As much as suicide could be a cry for help, perhaps it was, in his case, more of a cop-out.

 _Reeds don't run from trouble. Reeds have backbone and grit…_ His father’s voice speaking across time and light years of space.

So once again, _Malcolm_ Reed had let down his father and disgraced the family name. It was nothing new, of course, he'd been doing that all his life. Even taking the option of Star Fleet over the Royal Navy had seemed, in Stewart Reed's eyes, to be taking the softer course.

 _Softer?_ Reed shook his head in the darkness as though confronting his father in reality. _If you call being attacked by alien ships with weapons four times as powerful as your own, or being shot at on alien worlds and ships softer…_ He turned on his side. _If you call being raped night after night, and having your memories stolen, and having no power to even voice a protest, **softer**!_ He shuddered and closed his eyes as unbidden images and memories flooded his mind. "God… no… please," he whispered raggedly. "Not now."

Beside him, Tucker stirred, and Reed tensed, holding his breath until the engineer settled.

Then there was tonight. Reed frowned as he recalled his sudden need to hold and kiss Charles Tucker as though his very life depended on it. How he had pulled the older man into his arms – right into his _lap_ and explored the warm sweetness that he found awaiting him, the willing, passionate response. He shivered as the gruff moan of desire Tucker had made replayed itself in his mind.

 _All of this is because I **care** …_ He recalled the engineer's words when they'd argued at dinner. Reed sighed; he wished that he could believe that. He _wanted_ to believe that, yet experience warned against opening his heart too readily. How many others had told him they cared for him how many of them had made impassioned avowals of affection, only to leave? Reed swallowed hard. Why should Tucker be any different?

Dismissing those thoughts, Reed sat up on the edge of the bed. He glanced over his shoulder lookng for signs that Tucker was disturbed by his movement, but the engineer remained asleep. Reed got up and padded to the door of the sleeping cave and let himself out into the living area.

Still clad in his night clothes, he headed into a dimly lit underground tunnel and made his way along it unerringly. It was time, once and for all to do as he'd intended a few days before, and deal with the horrors that came every night to torment him. Tucker had stopped him the last time, but Tucker was sleeping now, and Reed was certain of what he must do.

The tunnel took a sharp turn to the right and he followed it. He knew his way around these tunnels better than anyone suspected, even in the dead of a Zilanthin night when the subterranean streets were only dimly lit, he could find his way.

He found the cavern he sought and gently tapped on the door. A response was swift in coming.

As the door swung open, he stared into a pair of knowing amber eyes.

"I need help," he said, shamed by the sudden tears that sprang to his eyes.

"Yess," the old healer replied. "Now it iss time."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shondré reveals information that explains much.

A light caressing touch against his cheek woke him and Tucker opened his eyes, blinking a few times until he came to full awareness of his surroundings.

"Shondré?" His voice was slurred with sleep and he stifled a yawn as he raised himself up on an elbow.

The healer perched on the side of the bed, her serene amber eyes studying him.

Suddenly wide awake, Tucker looked at the empty space next to him. "Malcolm!"

"Peace, Tucker, your lover sleepss."

"Sleeps? Where is he? Is he all right?" Tucker sat up as he spoke.

"He came to me," Shondré said. "He will be well."

"He came to you?" Tucker realized he was parroting, but he didn't know what else to say. "That's…good," he added with a smile. "We talked."

"I know." The healer nodded slightly and took hold of Tucker's hand for a moment. "I can help him now. He iss open to me…You have brought him to a place where he sees hiss need for help, he sees that he does not need to bear these troubles alone. I knew you could do thiss."

"What are you gonna do for him? Will he… forget what happened?"

"Forget, no." Shondré's expression showed fleeting pain. "He will not forget, Tucker. His hurt iss deep, but in time he will learn to remember without the hurt. I showed him a way to quiet the tumult in hiss soul…he sleeps." Her tone warmed with reassurance. "He will be well."

Tucker nodded and looked away, overcome with a depth of emotion that was hard for to contain. He closed his eyes, allowing the feelings. Relief, joy and a strange mixture of something close to grief to well within him and attempting, as Shondré had showed him, to send those feelings to her rather than trying to explain what he felt in words.

The healer closed her eyes, breathing deeply for several moments and then, softly at first, but gathering strength and volume, she began to emit a sound Tucker had never heard from any of the Zilanthi. It was a vibrant, humming croon, unlike anything Tucker could remember hearing in his life and yet, it encompassed what he felt perfectly. He stared at her in wonder as tears slipped unchecked down his cheeks.

Eventually the sound died away and Shondré's eyes met his. "Your soul singss, Tucker," she said. "I merely gave it voice. It iss something we are able to do from time to time when feelings cannot be expressed otherwise."

"Shondré I…" Tucker began, but his words were cut off by sounds of movement from the living area of the burrow.

Shondré turned her head sharply in the direction of the sound and her pupils narrowed to slits. "Hold your words, Tucker," she said, her tone filled with warning. "I will speak."

A moment later, the bedroom door opened and Shallarha, accompanied by three other healers entered the room.

"Speak then, Shondré," Shallarha said softly. "Explain thiss."

Easing to her feet, the elder healer faced the Zilanthi matriarch and the others with dignity. "Tucker hass the gift," she said, her voice firm. "It iss not forbidden for a healer to share with one who iss so gifted."

"Be that as it may," Shallarha said evenly. "How do we know Tucker was gifted before he came to uss?"

"I have reason enough to believe he possessed the gift before he came here. He called to me first, Shallarha. I heard him from a distance before I ever saw…or touched him."

Shallarha's eyes moved from the healer to Tucker and back. "Words," she said. "Where iss your proof?"

Tucker sensed that for all the civility of the matriarch's tone, things didn't look good for the healer. He got to his feet and took a step forward. "Now listen," he said. "I don't think Shondré has done anythin' wrong. She healed me when I was hurt bad, and she kept me alive against all the odds… on my planet, that's somethin' to be grateful for… it doesn't land a person in trouble."

"We have our own lawss, Tucker," Shallarha replied. "Shondré is aware of them. I do not dispute that her actions in your case have benefited you… however, our taboos state that this gift the healers bear may not be shared with any species that iss not already so gifted…it iss a power that can do harm to those who do not understand it."

"It hasn't done me any harm." Tucker insisted and was about to say more when he felt a gentle paw on his arm. He glanced at Shondré who shook her head at him. "Hold you words, Tucker," she repeated her earlier admonition. She turned to Shallarha.

"Tucker hass the gift," she restated. "His mind is stronger than it could be in such a short time had hiss gift come from me. I believe another being bestowed it upon him…but until I can bring the one to whom that creature bonded him here, I have no proof."

"He is bonded?" Shallarha's expression altered slightly and she cast Tucker another, measuring glance.

Shondré nodded briefly. "We have been working on a way to establish contact with the bonded one…to call him here so that Tucker and Reed may leave our planet. We musst be permitted to continue."

The matriarch pondered the healer's words for several moments before she finally nodded. "I concur, Healer," she said in formal tones. "I give my assent. If this bonded one can prove Tucker's gift was pre-exisstent, then you must be permitted to obtain that proof."

"I thank you." Shondré bowed slightly in deference to the matriarch before Shallarha and her companions left.

Tucker finally let himself relax only after all four Zilanthi females had left. "What was that all about?" he asked the healer.

Shondré smiled and shook her head with a sigh. "I have lived 43 spans, Tucker, my days grow short. When I am gathered to the great ones, another healer will assume my position…the three with Shallarha are…candidates for that place, they are… 'sensitives,' we call them, they show more aptitude in the gift than others."

Tucker nodded. "But how did they know you were here?"

Moving to the bed, the healer eased herself down to sit on its edge. "You told them, Tucker," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Me?" Tucker was incredulous. "No way! I never said anythin'."

"You did not need to _say_ Tucker. When your soul sang, every sensitive in the burrows would have heard. Such a thing cannot passs without investigation." She smiled. "It iss of little consequence. Shallarha is fair-minded, she will keep her word." Shondré sighed, "But time iss short, Tucker and we must discuss much before the end of the Cestus!" She was suddenly urgent, and she gestured for him to sit with her. "I have much to tell you … it iss time."

As he seated himself, the healer drew a deep breath. "It is time for me to answer the questions I have so often sensed in your mind, Tucker. Know that whatever I tell you tonight was kept from you until now with good reason." Her expression was earnest, and she leaned towards him a little. "There iss an appointed time for all things, Tucker… my people are very aware of those times and we work within the framework that the great ones set."

Tucker nodded. "Arright," he said. "What is it?"

"In three weeks the Cestus will commence. It is the third Cestus since you came to our world. The first brought you, the second brought Reed and the third…if the great ones permit, will take you home."

"The Cestus?" Tucker was puzzled by the word.

Shondré smiled and her eyes became distant. "The Cestus. When one of the great ones…'Malnatha' visits our skies. Malnatha rules times and seasons and…to some extent, destinies are held in her hand…When she appears in our skies, for a time… all times converge."

"You're talkin' about a star? A planet? Somethin' like that?"

"To off worlders, Malnatha iss a star…to uss, she is far more. She comes here every half span…for as long as any or our people can recall she hass come."

Tucker's mind was working overtime as he pondered the possibilities. "A comet!" He said suddenly.

"Perhaps your word, 'co-met' is a better way to describe Malnatha." Shondré agreed.

"Often, Malnatha brings objects… and creatures into our world that would not otherwise arrive here. She also hides things from those who may not come…and this iss why your ship…your Captain have never come for you, Tucker. They could not find you." The healer looked away. "It was decreed by Malnatha that you musst come. She also decreed that your Reed must come…perhaps if Malnatha wills it, your captain will come thiss time. We will endeavour to make it so, but there iss little time, and you must learn quickly. Malnatha influences our world for only a day."

"One day?" Trip frowned. "That explains a hell of a lot!"


	13. Chapter 13

Malcolm Reed sat up in bed in Shondré's burrow looking into the earnest face of the engineer who had just finished telling him a story that sounded like it came straight from the pages of a rather far fetched science fiction novel.  
  
He'd rested in the healer's burrow after coming to see her in the dead of night and begging for help with the flashbacks and nightmares which had plagued him since parting with the Terran Enterprise.  
  
"So this comet or whatever it is, influences Zilanth in such a way that it changes _time_?" Reed frowned at Tucker and shook his head. "I've heard some likely tales in my time..." he began "But this..."  
  
"Hold it, Malcolm, think about it." Tucker insisted. "How else do you explain it? Why hasn't _Enterprise_ come back for us? Why didn't the Cap'n come lookin'? Huh? Explain that if you can."  
  
"Well, it's possible that the same EM radiation that hit the shuttle, also hit _Enterprise_ It's possible that the ship itself crashed...either on this planet or some other." Reed sighed. "Whether you like that scenario or not, it is certainly more feasible than some folk-lore story about a local deity that 'decrees' who can visit this planet and who can't!"  
  
Tucker pressed the fingers of his left hand to his forehead and closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh. "You're always the optimist, aren't ya?"  
  
Malcolm gave a snort of derisive laughter. "While _you_ on the other hand constantly refuse to accept that anything other than what this reptilian healer tells you could possibly be true!"  
  
"Was there a comet in this sector when your Terran friends brought you here?"  
  
The question took Reed by surprise and he hesitated for an instant.  
  
"Right...So you know a comet exists that was in this sector six months ago." Tucker said.  
  
"But we didn't see any comets when the shuttle went down!"  
  
"No you're right, we didn't see any comets back there, but we _were_ hit by EM radiation!" Tucker pounced. "If that's the case then it at least makes Shondré's story worth considerin'!"  
  
"Well then, if that comet has such an enormous effect in the sector when it is here why wasn't the Terran _Enterprise_ , or their shuttle affected? We came in here without any problems, and they left again...presumably just as easily as they arrived.  
  
"I don't know, maybe they knew about this 'corridor' Shondré told me about, the one that she says one of our shuttles could navigate. By the time the Terrans left, the comet's influence was diminished, it only affects the planet for a day, and they stayed longer than that."

Tucker paused and Reed sighed.  
  
"But that's just it, Trip! They stayed more than a day! How did they not get trapped? Added to that, how do we know they returned to their correct timeline when they did leave? They could have wound up anywhere, if what you're saying is true."  
  
"No...they woulda headed right back into the same timeline they came from... Malcolm if these men were in the same timeline as you were on  
Clinarin II, it follows they _belong_ to this time and place."  
  
"Dubious logic, but I'll grant that." Reed said softly. "But it seems to me we're gambling a good deal on what amounts to little more than a theological mystery."  
  
"I understand that," Tucker said. "That's why I want you to gather as much information as you can about this comet. We need more to go on than some pretty stories about the goddess of destiny. Do you think you can get hold of some star charts? I know the Zilanthi don't go off world, but they trade with races that do. There must be somethin' like that around here. We need to work with facts, Malcolm. We can't just take a chance that what the Zilanthi preachers teach is gospel."  
  
Reed nodded. "I'll get on it tomorrow."  
  
"Good. And in the meantime, we need to get workin' on building an orbital. In case this theory falls through, I want to at least think we've got a backup plan."  
  
Reed looked at Tucker as though the man had lost his mind. "Are you forgetting, Commander, what happened to us the _last_ time we were in the vicinity of this planet while it was under the influence of that comet? If you don't mind, I'd rather not go through that again!"  
  
"It's a calculated risk. The Malcolm Reed I knew back on Enterprise wouldn've balked at somethin' like that. We didn't know what we know now back then. _Enterprise_ will be close enough to pick us up. If everythin' goes right...things'll be a lot different this go 'round than they were back then."  
  
With a sigh, Malcolm nodded. "Yes, sir," he murmured. He hated how Tucker did that, pulling up references to their lives back on _Enterprise_ and the man he had known then. Reed closed his eyes for a moment. _'He can't let that man go. He doesn't seem to realize that I've changed since then...I'm **not** the same person I was_.'  
  
"Malcolm?" The engineer's voice had softened, sounding almost uncertain.  
  
Reed met clouded blue eyes. "Yes?"  
  
"I'm sorry." Tucker lowered his gaze. "I don't know when to shut my mouth sometimes."  
  
He offered a half smile in response. "It's all right," he said.  
  
"I'm glad you decided to come here," Tucker said, making a gesture that took in the cavern they were in. "I..." he fumbled for words.  
  
Reaching out for the hand that lay on the bed, Reed grasped it and smiled when Tucker looked at him. "I'm glad too," he said. "I slept very well here last night...I think that things will get better." He paused a moment and then went on. "Trip, I'm sorry for what I did the other day. I don't know what possessed me. It all just became so overwhelming. I couldn't take it anymore and...and you seem to have integrated here so much better than I have. I felt that I was not needed, that you could cope without me...it was stupid of me. I... I won't do such a thing again."  
  
"It's good ta hear ya say that, Malcolm." Tucker squeezed his hand  
  
 _It would be even better if you believed it_ , Reed merely smiled at Tucker.  
  
There was silence between them for a few minutes before Tucker stood, giving Reed's hand another gentle squeeze. "Well, I oughta be gettin' to work," he said cheerily. "I'll stop by again around lunch time, see if Shondré's ready to let ya go by then."  
  
"All right," Reed released the engineer's hand, letting his own fall back to the coverlet. As Tucker walked out of the room, Reed sighed. He hated to be cooped up here when he was feeling perfectly well. The rest he'd gotten after the simple meditation Shondré showed him had left him feeling refreshed and balanced and he really felt that he was slacking lying in bed when there was so much that he could be doing. However, doctor's orders were doctor's orders whether on a Starship or an alien planet, and Malcolm Reed was still a stickler for protocol.  
  
He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall feeling the cool smooth stone through his thin shirt. It was good to see Tucker so focused. After the ordeals the engineer had gone through with his injuries from the shuttle crash, and then the bite of an alien spider that had almost killed him in the process of curing his blindness and the injuries to his hand, it was refreshing to see his former vitality return.  
  
An image of Tucker appeared in his mind quite unbidden. He studied the man in detail, noting all the things he liked about the engineer's physique, the broad shoulders, the athletic build, his sunny smile and flashing blue eyes. Reed drew a deep breath, thinking of strong arms that had held and comforted him through the night when he had finally poured out the horrors of Clinarin II.  
  
He licked his lips, mentally allowing his hands to trace the lines of those arms, feeling the ripple of muscles as his touch moved from the arms to the shoulders and then across Tucker's chest. He moaned, imagining the feel of that sun-gold skin under his hands - imagining what it would be like to stroke across the firm, well toned belly of the man he could now admit that he loved.  
  
Reed opened his eyes in surprise as he felt a stirring from his loins and he shook his head, chasing away the vision he had conjured up. "Good lord, man!" he admonished himself. "You need to get a hobby!"


	14. Chapter 14

Captain Jonathan Archer sat despondently in his ready room, trying for the fifth time to read the same line of an engineering report that had been handed to him almost half an hour before by Lt Commander Jack Britton.  
  
A Welshman, Britton was Charles Tucker’s replacement. He was a dedicated engineer, with a flair for anything mechanical. Highly recommended by Starfleet command, the man knew his job and did it well. He'd amazed Archer a few times with his instinct for the warp core. He would pause in his work, stand with hands on hips, head cocked to the side for a minute or two and then say. "Can you hear that?" to anyone who happened to be nearby, and then proceed to explain in detail just what the noise was, and what it meant, before he would set to work at 'putting that right.'  
  
Archer had never once been able to pick out the sounds that Britton heard.   
  
The captain sighed, admitting defeat and set the datapadd aside. He wasn't in the mood to read reports. He wasn't in the mood for anything much of late. Getting to his feet, he moved to the view port, staring into space as had become his habitual pastime for months.  
  
Britton was a good engineer, but he just wasn't Charles "Trip" Tucker III.  
  
The same thing went for Lieutenant Gregory Dalton. Well the rank of Lieutenant was a field commission, Dalton wasn't 'officially' Starfleet. He was on loan from the American Military Corps. He was a good man and where Reed had been quiet, Dalton was just the opposite, in fact, he was closer to Tucker in personality. Fun loving, gregarious and popular, he had slotted into his position and made the leap from earthbound ordnance to phase canon and torpedoes with surprising ease.  
  
Good men, both, but they just couldn't come close to replacing Archer's first choice for those two positions.  
  
The sound of his door bell brought the captain out of his reverie. "Come."  
  
He didn't turn around as the door slid open, he didn't need to. He knew it was T'Pol without looking. Archer had become adept at feeling her presence, she 'felt' different to anyone else on his crew. "Can I help you, Sub-commander?"  
  
"I had planned to ask you the same question." Her response was mildly surprising, and Archer turned to look at her.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You were preoccupied at dinner," T'Pol said, shifting her weight a little as she adopted her habitual stance, hands behind her back.  
  
"That's remarkable?"   
  
"More preoccupied than usual," she allowed.  
  
He nodded, and then moved to his chair. "Have a seat,"  
  
The Vulcan cocked an eyebrow at him but moved to another chair. "Is there something you wish to discuss?"  
  
"Possibly." Archer drew a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "I don't know how to say this…"  
  
T'Pol remained silent, and he suddenly found that he appreciated her quiet manner. Sometimes verbal prompting was more a distraction than a help.  
  
"The last few nights I've been bothered by something I saw." He glanced at her, trying to read her expression but the sub-commander merely inclined her head slightly indicating she was listening.  
  
"In engineering, about the same time two nights in a row, I saw Commander Tucker." The eyebrow raised a fraction higher. "I saw him!"  
  
"I do not question that you _think_ you saw the commander. You have been under stress…such things are not uncommon among humans."  
  
"No, I wasn't hallucinating. I thought I was the first time, but the second time Porthos was with me, he saw the commander too. Trip touched him."  
  
"Porthos told you that Commander Tucker touched him?" Her irony was not lost on the captain and he smiled a little.  
  
"No, I saw him touch Porthos. I know for a fact that Porthos saw him too! He ran to him, reacted to him exactly as he did when Trip was still on board!" Archer paused for breath. It was important to him that T'Pol believe his story. "That's how I know it wasn't just wishful thinking. Dogs don't react to wishful thinking."  
  
"Perhaps you were dreaming."

He almost thought he detected a hint of something approaching wistfulness in her eyes, but it was quickly smothered.  
  
"It wasn't a dream. I was awake…I…haven't slept well enough to _dream_ in months."  
  
"It is not possible for humans to survive without rapid eye movement, or dream sleep for that length of time." T'Pol remarked.   
  
He shook his head. "You know how Trip is with Porthos. He can't go near him without them practically rolling on the floor together. It was just the same, and Porthos was reacting as if Trip were taking up the space identical to what I was watching. I've never yet never heard of a dog that could play charades."  
  
Her expression shifted a fraction, something softened in her eyes and she grew thoughtful. Her silence continued for so long time that Archer became uncomfortable. _This is where she tells me that she will contact the Vulcan High Command about my condition_. He tried one last ditch effort.  
  
"T'Pol! It was Trip, he's out there somewhere! He tried to tell me something, but I can't read lips."  
  
Her dark eyes met his for a moment. "You were perhaps, not listening in the correct manner."  
  
"What?" Even this miniscule allowance on her part was astounding. "What do you mean?"  
  
"My people have used a similar method of communication. Usually between bondmates. I was not aware that you and Commander Tucker shared such a bond."  
  
"We don't!" Archer looked away for a moment. "Not that kind of bond…"  
  
"Nevertheless, it would … explain certain things." T'Pol continued, "Your refusal against all indications to accept Commander Tucker's death, your continued hope that he survived…and seeing him in engineering. If these are not indications of a bond, then I must conclude they indicate mental instability of a level incompatible with holding a command position."  
  
Suddenly seeing where the subcommander's line of thought was leading, Archer nodded. "I'm willing to admit that Trip and I are… very close," he said. "Could that be construed as some kind of 'bond?'"  
  
"Perhaps." T'Pol tipped her head slightly. "If it can be established that Commander Tucker is indeed attempting to contact you, we would of necessity be required to return to the sector he was lost in and investigate. I am sure the Vulcan High Command would agree."  
  
"Are you saying you'd help me to prove Trip is trying to communicate with me?"  
  
"There is a small yet statistically significant chance that Commander Tucker is still alive and that you are indeed experiencing his attempts to communicate the same to his crewmates." T'Pol raised an eyebrow slightly. "What time did Commander Tucker appear in Engineering?"  
  
"Around the beginning of Delta Shift," Archer replied and watched her thoughtful expression for a moment.  
  
"It is almost time for the change of shifts," she said.  
  
"In that case, would you care to accompany Porthos and me on our nightly walk?"  
  
T'Pol inclined her head slightly and got to her feet.


	15. Chapter 15

"Okay, I'm in engineerin'," Tucker murmured, eyes closed, sitting cross legged on the floor, his expression was that of intense concentration. He took a few deep breaths. "I can see everythin' a little clearer this time, it's like someone boosted the light or somethin'."

"Very good, Tucker," Shondré said. "Try touching things."

Tucker moved across the room, towards a workbench and studied the tools laid out on it. "I can see a sonic wrench, gonna try to pick it up," he said.

He reached out and let his finger graze across the metallic object. It felt solid and he gave a small cry of triumph when his fingers closed around it and he picked it up off the table. "I got it!"

"Excellent!" Shondré reflected feelings of pride and encouragement through the light telepathic bond to him and was about to withdraw and tell him to stop when she became aware of another presence. "Someone comess," she said, gently exploring the new mind she had sensed through Tucker's projection.

This mind was serene, orderly and very logical. The healer gasped as she lightly touched a female personality. Her touch was too light to be detected as anything more than the lightest brush, something that most telepaths would dismiss. The healer did not wish to be seen to intrude on this new mind, but her curiosity was piqued by the encounter. "Who iss she, Tucker?"

"That's T'Pol," Tucker turned to look towards the door where the Vulcan had just entered with Jon and Porthos. "She's a Vulcan, sub-commander, she was assigned to our ship by the Vulcan High Command as a condition of us actually gettin' out here."

He took a few steps forward as Jonathan Archer and the little beagle dog came into engineering. "Jon," he attempted, trying to gain the captain's attention, but it was the dog that saw him first, and ran to him with a happy yip.

"Hey Porthos," Tucker hunkered down to greet that dog and was delighted that this time, he was able to feel the warm, wet tongue that 'kissed' his hands all over.

He chuckled and looked up, to meet the captain's eyes. "Hi Cap'n,"

Jon didn't seem to hear, but he walked towards Tucker. "He's here," the captain said. "Don't you see him?"

"I do not see anything," T'Pol replied. "However, the reaction of your dog is…unusual."

"Shondré, Vulcans are telepathic," Tucker said to his companion. "Can't you…I mean, isn't there some way we could try to …"

"There iss a way," Shondré replied. "I will attempt…"

T'Pol frowned and raised a hand to her temple. "I…hear…" she said, her eyes clouding over for an instant before she seemed to shake herself.

"She blocks me!" Shondré said. "I cannot attempt to touch her again lest I do her harm…we must try another way."

"I've got an idea!" Tucker lunged for the worktable that he had been standing by earlier and picked up the sonic wrench and dropped it onto the floor.

T'Pol's eyes snapped to it, and then she looked up. For an instant, their eyes met. Tucker stepped forward. "T'Pol!" he said as loudly as he could. "Can you hear me?"

"Commander Tucker is here," T'Pol said, glancing at the captain. "Not physically, but he is here. His presence is manifest."

"Trip?" Jon turned to the commander. "Trip we can see you, but we can't hear you…you need to find some way that…"

"Captain," T'Pol interjected. "I believe I know a way."


	16. Chapter 16

"Squeeze my fingers," Reed said softly as he sat opposite Tucker in their  
dining room. The engineer did as he asked, and Reed smiled at the obvious  
strength in the hand he was working with.  
  
"Good," he murmured, moving on from the strengthening exercises to massage  
the fingers and wrist of Tucker's hand. "I think if Shondré agrees, we could  
cut back the therapy to once or twice a week."  
  
"Yeah I don't have too many problems with the hand anymore," Tucker agreed.  
He smiled and flexed the fingers a little. "It feels fine."  
  
Reed nodded, focussing his attention on the task. He passed his tongue  
across his lips, finding himself suddenly plagued with an urge to kiss the  
fingers he had worked so long and diligently to restore to life and feeling.  
He closed his eyes briefly.  
  
These little flashes were happening more frequently now that he was learning  
to clear his mind of the phantoms that had haunted him since arriving on  
Zilanth. He drew a deep breath, blinking away the thought of those fingers  
pressed to his lips and frowned slightly in concentration. _Keep your mind  
on the job, Reed_.  
  
"Yeah," Tucker mused aloud. "They feel real good." For a moment, his fingers  
tightened around Reed's busily massaging ones and Reed looked up to meet a  
pair of amused blue eyes. "Trip..." he murmured with a stern look, and then  
bent over the engineer's hand once more.  
  
It certainly didn't help matters when the 'patient' was doing his best to  
seduce the 'nurse!' Reed had to hide a smirk at the thought, and he risked  
another quick glance at Tucker, whom he found was still watching him with  
those brightly gleaming blue eyes. He sighed softly as his fingers switched  
from massaging to caressing the engineer's hand.  
  
The shift in attitude was subtle, but it was definite. From a routine  
therapy session, the moment had turned to something deeper. Reed kept his  
eyes lowered, fixed on the hand he stroked, but his movements became  
smoother, softer, and slower. He breathed deeply, revelling in the sudden  
tension that charged the air, and almost in a dream state, he raised  
Tucker's hand and pressed his lips against the fingers which quivered at the  
touch.  
  
"I love you, Charles," he whispered.  
  
The only reply was a soft, shuddering breath, and Reed pulled the older man  
closer and sought his lips in a blind kiss filled with all the tender  
emotion he had suddenly been swamped with. He explored Tucker's lips,  
learning the taste of them over again, tracing his tongue across the man's  
bottom lip and asking for access.  
  
Tucker's lips parted to him eagerly and he delved into the warm sweetness,   
closing his eyes as he lost himself in the heady sensation of giving, and   
receiving the pure intoxication that this kiss was.  
  
Slowly, he moved his lips from Tucker's mouth, to his neck, letting his arms  
enfold the man in a tight embrace as he explored, kissing, tasting, and  
inhaling the fresh, clean scent of the engineer's skin. He groaned when he  
felt Tucker's mouth close on his right earlobe, lips gently suckling and a  
warm tongue teasing the skin playfully.  
  
And just as suddenly as the sweet moment began, it was shattered by a  
violent flashback to pain, as he remembered another time and place when not  
lips, but teeth had seized that same lobe, drawing a scream of agony from  
him.  
  
Reed let out a cry and roughly shoved Tucker away from him "Stop! I  
can't!"  
  
"Malcolm?" Tucker looked genuinely confused and more than a little hurt.  
"What's wrong? What'd Ah do?"  
  
"Nothing." Reed shook his head and ran a hand across his face in  
frustration, "You didn't do anything...it's me!"  
  
"What's the matter?" Tucker persisted and Reed turned to look at him.  
  
"I can't do this, Trip. I don't know _what_ to do anymore...how can I even  
begin to have a relationship with you or _anyone_ for that matter if anytime  
we become intimate, I have flashbacks of things so horrible as to make me  
want to kill myself?"  
  
Tucker bowed his head and pressed his lips together in a thin line for a  
moment before he spoke. "Malcolm, we've known each other a while now, and ya  
know I won't ever tell ya nice things just t'make ya feel better. I've  
always been straight with ya and I'm not gonna change that." He paused a  
moment and then leaned forward so that Reed was forced to meet his eyes. "No  
one and nothin' *made* ya want to kill yourself... you gave up tryin' to find  
a way back!"  
  
Reed swallowed hard and nodded, not even attempting to gainsay Tucker's  
words. With a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and  
dropping his chin into his hands. He remained silent. There really was not  
much he could say in response, so it was probably better to keep his mouth  
shut altogether.  
  
"Tell me somethin'," Tucker spoke softly. "When you were in that  
place... that consulate with all those scum lookin' at ya and seein' nothing  
but a pretty dancin' boy to use and humiliate... did anyone ever once touch  
you, or treat you with any kind of affection?"  
  
A shake of his head. "No."  
  
"Did any of 'em just wanna be with ya for you? Did even one ever think of ya  
as more than so much flesh to be pawed and ..."  
  
"No!" Reed shook his head hard. "Never. I... well... one." His mind touched on  
Archer for a moment, "but mostly no-one."  
  
"Malcolm, c'mere," Tucker said, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness  
as he reached out and pulled the younger man to him. Reed found himself held  
close in a hug that had nothing in it beyond the warmth and closeness that  
had been so lacking on Clinarin II. He closed his eyes, allowing his head to  
rest against Tucker's chest.  
  
"I know what you've been through must've been hell, Malcolm... I dunno how  
you managed to live through it, but you did, and that speaks of your courage  
and your strength. You didn't give up, Malcolm, you got through it somehow  
and you're here...an'," Tucker's voice hitched and he was forced to pause a  
moment. "An' Ah'm alive 'cause you survived and ya came back here for me."  
  
Reed slipped his arms around Tucker's waist and nodded. "I ..."  
  
"Shh, lemme finish." Tucker rested his chin on the top of Malcolm's head.  
"You're a brave and good man, Malcolm Reed, and I love you. I'm happy to  
wait until y'feel you're ready to give yourself to me. I'm here for you and  
I'm not goin' anywhere. We don't have to rush anythin'. We got all the time  
in the world.  
  
I'm not here to help ya live out any revenge fantasies, but anything ya  
wanna do that's nice and fun for us both, we can do anytime yer ready, but I  
want you to know one thing, Malcolm." He pulled back a little and looked  
into the soft grey-blues that were raised to his face. "You never, an' I  
mean never have to rush anythin'."  
  
Reed stared into the sincere blue eyes of his companion and fought against  
the emotion that choked his throat for several moments before he was finally  
able to speak. "I don't deserve you," he said in a raspy voice that  
threatened to break. "I don't..."  
  
"Now you just stop right there." Tucker put a finger against his lips. "I  
don't wanna hear you whippin' yerself anymore about any o'this!"  
  
Reed kissed the tip of the finger that lay against his mouth and then moved  
his head away so that he could speak. "Thank you."  
  
Tucker smiled and pulled the lieutenant close against him again. "You don't  
hafta thank me," he said with something approaching a chuckle.  
  
"Charles?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"There is -- something I'd like to do," he said, recalling his imaginary  
exploration of Tucker's body a few days before. "Would you mind?"  
  
"Course not," there was the slightest edge of amusement in the man's tone.  
"What'd ya have in mind?"  
  
Reed got to his feet, drawing Tucker with him. "Come into the bedroom," he  
said. "You'll see."  
  
"All right, but let's make it my room this time, there's too many ghosts  
from Clinarin in yours."  
  
"Agreed..."


	17. Chapter 17

Tucker knelt on the bed facing Reed who held both his hands in his own. He was naked, shivering a little in anticipation of what might happen.   
  
"Are you chilled?" Reed's voice was concerned.  
  
"No, not really, it's okay." He smiled and squeezed Reed's hands in reassurance.  
  
Reed slowly leaned forward and brushed his lips across Tucker's mouth.  
  
The contact was electric and the engineer shuddered again, a soft moan escaping him as he tried to capture those soft, tempting lips but Reed drew away, his eyes gleaming with a teasing light.  
  
Slowly Reed uncurled his fingers, releasing Tucker's hands and beginning to trace his hands upwards, along his arms to the shoulders, his fingers trailed lightly over the skin, raising gooseflesh along their path.  
  
"That feels nice," Tucker whispered. He kept his hands down. Much as he longed to touch, he was also mindful of Reed's earlier reaction and he didn't want to do anything to break this moment. He closed his eyes and let his breath go out softly as gentle fingers now followed the lines of his shoulders and traced downwards over his chest.  
  
His breath hitched with a small hiss as fingers found his nipples and gently teased them before those caressing hands made their way down over his belly. Tucker groaned as the warm touch neared the place that he wanted touched more than any other, but Reed carefully avoided touching his cock and instead, moved to explore the muscular thighs.  
  
"God, Malcolm!" Tucker passed the tip of his tongue over his lips, opening his eyes and finding himself lost in a pair of softly shining grey-blue eyes that studied his face with intent interest.  
  
"You look so..." Reed began and then trailed off as he leaned forward to take another kiss.  
  
Tucker groaned and tentatively brought his hands up to touch Reed's face, ghosting his fingers across the angular cheeks and allowing them to trail lightly upwards to comb through soft dark hair.  
  
Moaning softly, Reed moved to lie on his side, drawing Tucker down with him and the kiss deepened, languorous, mouths open, and tongues meeting in exploration of each other.  
  
Reed ran his hand down along the length of Tucker's body, from his chest down over his flank to the hip. He opened his eyes as he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against Tucker's and looking into the slightly glazed blue eyes of the engineer. "I love you," he whispered.  
  
"Likewise," Tucker responded and kissed the tip of Reed's nose.   
  
Reed smiled and caught hold of Tucker's hand, bringing their joined hands up between their chests. They lay together in silence for some time, each enjoying the closeness. Tucker gently toyed with a few strands of the younger man's hair, his expression thoughtful.  
  
"Penny for them," Reed murmured.  
  
"Hm?" Tucker's eyes came back into focus and he smiled tentatively. "I've got something I need to tell you," he said.  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"Well, you remember a week or two ago, when I told you I saw the Cap'n?"  
  
Reed nodded, not speaking. He sensed that what the engineer was going to tell him was important, and he didn't want to spoil the moment.  
  
"Well, I've been workin' with Shondré... she... she's been helpin' me with some meditation."  
  
"Ah." Reed smiled. "Well, until she showed me how to meditate, I wouldn't have believed it could be so effective. So, no more visions?"  
  
"Uh...well, not exactly."  
  
An apprehensive tingle began somewhere in the back of Reed's mind, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "Then, what, exactly?"  
  
"Shondré's been helpin' me to try and contact the ship via this - projectin' she calls it."  
  
Reed bit down on his tongue, unwilling to spoil the easy closeness between them. "I see. And?"  
  
"Yesterday, we contacted them more clearly than any other time. I touched Porthos - he licked my hands. I could hear Jon and T'Pol talkin' - T'Pol said she could tell I was there. It's _real_ Malcolm!" Tucker insisted, cupping a hand to Reed's cheek as he spoke. "T'Pol said to try again tonight at the same time... I... I'd like ya to be there."  
  
Reed frowned and bit his lower lip. "You know I have grave misgivings about this, Trip," he said. Looking into the engineer's eyes, he let out a breath at the pleading expression he encountered. "When?"   
  
"In about three hours," Tucker replied.  
  
"All right," he squeezed the hand he still held in his own, "but do you mind if I nap until then? The novelty of sleeping without nightmares still hasn't worn off."  
  
"Sure," Tucker said. "Think I might just join ya, I know Shondré won't let us sleep past the time." He hitched himself a little closer to the younger man and let his arm fall across Malcolm's waist as they settled to rest.


	18. Chapter 18

"Well, it don't look like the picture…" Charles Tucker muttered to himself as he glanced from the container he held in his hands, to a picture loaded on the database screen and frowned. "I dunno, maybe I did somethin' wrong," He set the container down and put the cloth he'd used to protect his hands from the heat on the counter while he bent down to study the computer screen more closely.

"I know I didn't have the same vegetables and stuff, but that shouldn't matter, the ones I used come pretty close according to the scanner," He sighed and glanced at the stew he'd just removed from the cooking range again. "It don't figure…" His thoughts were interrupted by a sour odor coming from the vicinity of the oven.

"Aww shit!" Tucker bolted for the stove, snatching up the cloth as he went. Opening the oven door, he coughed and flapped the cloth at the billowing smoke. "Damn, I burned em!" He reached into the oven and rescued the still smouldering tray of what he had intended to be biscuits. "Well, no amount a gravy's gonna make them look, smell _or_ taste any better." With a small sound of frustration, he dumped the entire mess into the trash.

"Just what is going on here?"

Tucker whirled around at the voice and found himself looking into a pair of amused blue-grey eyes as Malcolm Reed stepped further into the room, waving a hand to clear smoke from his vision.

Tucker slumped into a chair. "Well, it was _supposed_ t'be a special dinner," he said despondently. "A celebration, you know? For makin' contact with the Cap'n."

"I see," Reed schooled his features into careful neutrality as he joined his companion at the table. "I take it all didn't go according to plan?"

Tucker shook his head and sighed heavily. "Maybe the stew is all right, but the biscuits… and I didn't even bother tryin' to _bake_ the cake…the batter looked bad enough!"

"Well then, let's have some of the stew, and we can eat it with bread, not a total loss."

Tucker met the younger man's eyes with a smile and got up to ladle two serves of the stew into bowls while Reed sliced thick chunks of bread for them both.

Moving back to the table, Reed sniffed at the stew in his bowl before taking up his spoon. "It smells all right," he remarked and spooned a small amount into his mouth.

Watching him, Tucker bit held his breath. He studied the younger man's face intently, looking for the slightest hint of reaction.

"Uhm…" Reed reached for a jug of juice and quickly poured himself a cup of the tangy liquid. "Uh...it's a little spicy!"

'Uh-oh.' Tucker lifted his own spoon and sampled the steaming mixture for himself. "Shit!" The expletive was accompanied by a round of vehement spitting. "A… little!" He coughed and managed to slop juice onto the table as he quickly tried to serve himself a drink with his weaker hand. "Dammit, Malcolm!" He spluttered when he was able to speak. "You got a real talent for understatin' a matter!"

Reed licked his lips and met Tucker's eyes. "I take it you've heard of the English penchant for curry?" He paused and then, "It's a national taste I am afraid I don't share."

Tucker dropped his spoon into his plate. "That's not curry," he said, "That's liquid plasma."

Reed couldn't suppress a chuckle. "We still have the bread?" he offered.

"Yeah," Tucker looked utterly crestfallen. "I don't get it," he said quietly. "Why didn't it work out? I did _everythin'_ exactly like it said in the database."

"Well, cooking can throw you some curves," Reed said, "Even the most experienced…"

"I thought recipes were just meant to be mathematical formulae?"

"They are, to an extent, but cooking _is_ a science," Reed pushed his plate away and picked up a chunk of bread and bit into it.

"Malcolm, _engineerin'_ is a science! I've been in a job where I kept things running smoothly for years, Ahm _still_ doin' that job here, but a pot o'stew and a tray of biscuits is beyond me?"

"Charles, you're a fine engineer, you're marvelous at calculating the energy output required to maintain a slow burn," he was unable to keep the chuckle from his voice at the phrase, but he quickly sobered when he noted the engineer's glare. "You're just not Chef, or _a_ chef, for that matter."

"Oh sure, rub it in!" Tucker got up and cleared the plates away, tipping the stew into the trash can and setting the dishes into the sink. "So how come it's so easy for _you_?"

"Well, essentially, boom and bake are two sides of the same coin. Baking is a thermo-dynamic reaction."

"Really?" Tucker turned a snide look on him, and Reed smiled.

"It is. Think about it, the rising of a cake is merely a controlled energy explosion, except instead of aiming for ballistic energy, we want the cake to rise nicely and remain contained. Blowing something up, on the other hand is an uncontrolled energy explosion resulting in ballistic energy and fragmentation."

"Right." Tucker didn't look convinced.

"Charles," his tone became cajoling.

"I like when ya do that," Tucker remarked.

"Do what?" Reed couldn't quite keep up with the swift change of tangent. He frowned with puzzlement.

"When ya call me Charles," Tucker replied. "Not many people use mah first name."

Reed smiled. "I rather prefer 'Charles' to 'Trip,'" he said. "It's more… intimate."

"I can live with intimate." His disappointment with the dinner forgotten, Tucker moved back to sit at the table.

"I'm glad you were there last night." He reached for Reed's hand where it lay on the table. "It meant a lot to me."

Reed smiled. "I don't know what I did, I just sat there while you meditated." He gave a small sigh. "Are you sure that you really made contact?"

To Reed the entire thing had not seemed remarkable. It was not much different to the meditation sessions he had attended with Shondré and certainly, in those, he didn't make contact with anyone outside of his own mind. Yet, Tucker was adamant that he had spoken to the captain and T'Pol and had conveyed information to them about how and when to return to Zilanth to find them.

"I know it's hard for you to understand, Malcolm," Tucker said. "But trust me. I saw the cap'n, I talked to him, and to T'Pol and they're on their way back."

Reed nodded. "I'll have to take your word for it I suppose, but I have to say I'd be far more comfortable if we had been able to make contact via the regular channels."

"So would I," Tucker acknowledged, "but Ah'm glad we made contact at all by any means."

"I suppose you're right," Reed sighed and gave Tucker's hand a gentle squeeze. "Do you think we could take a swim before bed?"

"Sure, if you'd like." Tucker stood up and headed into his bedroom to get changed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip's turn for nightmares.

Charles 'Trip' Tucker the third walked into the mess hall aboard _Enterprise_ wearing a huge grin. It was good to be home. He'd missed his "lady ship" and his beloved engines more than he could say. He paused in the doorway to survey the mess hall and his crew mates dining there.  
  
One or two crewmen acknowledged his presence with smiles and small waves. Mike Rostov was there, the crewman had been his right-hand man on many a long shift, slaving over the warp five engine, bringing it up to peak performance. Tucker smiled and nodded at the young man, before he stepped towards the captain's mess.  
  
It was to be his first dinner with the captain since their return, and he was looking forward to it. Reed was attending as well. Tucker was pleased that the Lieutenant had accepted the invitation. He looked forward to sharing this meal with his lover and his best friend. He didn't press the door chime but let himself in unannounced.  
  
Shock stopped him dead in his tracks and his mouth dropped open in amazement at what he saw. He tried to speak but words would not come. Tucker gasped for breath, and staggered backwards until his back came up against the closed door which, for some reason refused to open to let him leave. He whimpered, his eyes glued to the sight of Malcolm Reed held tight in the arms of Captain Archer.  
  
'No!' his mind screamed but still no sound would come from his lips.  
  
"I'm so glad you're home," Archer murmured, staring into the enraptured face of the Armoury Officer. "I've missed you so much...I thought I'd never see you again."  
  
"I've dreamed of this," Reed replied. "Hoped for it night after night, waiting for you to come back for me."  
  
"Malcolm!" The captain bent to claim Reed's lips in a searing kiss.  
  
"No!" Finally, the words came to him and Tucker stepped forward. "Malcolm -- Jon..."  
  
The two men parted slowly, almost reluctantly, it seemed to Tucker.  
  
"Trip," Jon said, his eyes gleaming with happiness. "I owe you my thanks. You brought him back to me."  
  
Tucker shook his head in mute denial. _No -- no I didn't bring him back for you, I..._  
  
"Malcolm?" Tucker tore his eyes away from Archer's face. "What's goin' on?"  
  
"Trip," Malcolm said with a smile as he turned his eyes to the captain's face for a moment. "How can we ever thank you? What you did was..."  
  
"I don't understand--" Tucker's ice-cold fingers gripped his heart and squeezed mercilessly. "I love you, Malcolm, I thought - I thought you loved me too."  
  
"Love?" Reed shook his head with a small smile. "I'm grateful, of course, but love? I never gave you any reason to believe that."  
  
"Liar!" Tucker choked on raw emotion. His heart froze in that icy gasp, and shattered into fragments. "You're lyin'!" He felt tears spring to his eyes as he looked from one smiling face to the other. "Don't do this, Malcolm - what about - what about all the things you said, you told me you love me...Malcolm! Malcolm!"  
  
The two men merely stared, smiling at him in the mildly pained way that adults smile at a demanding child.  
  
"Pl-please...Malcolm!" His shoulders shook with the sobs. "I need ya, don't leave me!"

  
  
"Charles?" Reed had been wakened by a soft, broken whimper. He raised himself on one elbow and looked down at the sleeping engineer for a moment.  
  
Tucker's shoulders shook with silent sobs and Reed could plainly see, in the low light from the bedside lamp that there were tears streaming from Tucker's eyes. "Charles!" He laid a hand on Tucker's shoulder.  
  
"I need ya, don't leave me!"  
  
"Trip!" Reed shook the man lightly. "Wake up, you're dreaming!"  
  
"No! No - Malcolm... Jon this is... don't... oh God... please!"  
  
"Wake up!" Reed called and shook Tucker a little harder. "I'm here, I'm not leaving, Charles, please wake up!"  
  
With a small, shuddering cry, Tucker woke, blinking through the tears that still flowed from his eyes. "Malcolm?"  
  
"Yes, shh, it's all right, I'm here." He brushed a hand over Tucker's face, wiping away the tears. "I'm here. It was a dream, love."  
  
"Malcolm." Tucker pressed himself against Reed and buried his face against the younger man's chest. "Oh God. I was...it was a dream?"  
  
"Yes. A nightmare, by the sound of it. Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"It's hazy," Tucker replied. "We were back on the ship, but somethin' was wrong."  
  
"You were calling for me, and for the captain," Reed said softly.  
  
"Yeah. Something was happenin', I c-can't remember." Tucker pressed closer.   
  
"Hush, it's all right," Reed lay back down and gathered Tucker close against him. "Just a bad dream," he said. "No doubt a by-product of that stew." He smiled and pressed his lips against Tucker's hair. "Try to get back to sleep," he murmured.  
  
"Malcolm, ya won't...ya won't leave me will ya?"  
  
Reed frowned. "I'm not moving from this spot, Mister Tucka," he said. "I promise." It was so long since Malcolm had seen Tucker so vulnerable. He wondered what kind of horrors his mind must have summoned to cause this reaction. He rubbed the engineer's back, holding him close and breathing the scent of his hair. Reed liked the smell. It was fresh and held a hint of spice. A leftover from the soap that Tucker used. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  
  
"That's nice," Tucker's voice was drowsy and Reed was glad to feel the tension easing out of the man's body. He smiled and kissed Tucker's forehead and then his eyelids. "I love you," he whispered.  
  
"Do you really?" Tucker was alert and tense once more. "You're not just sayin' that are ya? You really love me?"  
  
"Of course I mean it." Reed stared into the shadowed blue eyes, reading doubt. "I love you, Charles Tucker." He pulled the man closer and kissed him deeply to prove his sincerity.  
  
Tucker whimpered and parted his lips to Reed's tongue, gently sucking on it as Reed slipped his tongue into his mouth. He groaned as he was rolled onto his back and Reed came to rest on top of him, their groins pressed together, he could feel the hardness of Reed's cock through the thin pyjama pants he wore and he shuddered, another groan of need coming from somewhere deep in his throat.  
  
Breaking the kiss, Reed looked down into Tucker's face. The engineer's pupils were dilated, and his eyes shone with need, his lips were slightly parted, and he panted. He was beautiful and Reed pressed his hips closer to Tucker, increasing the pressure on their swollen organs and moved his hips in a tantalizing bump and grind. Shifting position slightly, he maintained the eye contact, keeping the pressure constant so that the needed friction was generated. He moaned and brushed his lips against Tucker's  
again. "I love you," he breathed and smiled as Tucker's eyes slid closed and the man bucked under him, pushing back against the delicious pressure as they each lost themselves to pleasure.  
  
Fevered breathing and the rustle of sheets. Soft moans and whispers of desire filled the room as the tempo increased. Reed's heart pounded in his chest and he held ever tighter to his lover as the tension in his body mounted. With a growl, he lost himself to the sensations, all else forgotten and he slipped a hand between their bodies pushing clothing out of his way he captured the throbbing organs, pinning them together as he thrust harder, delighting in Tucker's cry of passion.  
  
"Yeah...oh god oh yeah! I need ungh!... Malcolm!" Tucker arched his back and Reed felt the warm surge of wetness as the older man came. He smiled and claimed another kiss, trailing his lips across Tucker's, slow and leisurely tasting and exploring with teeth and tongue as Tucker's fevered movements under him slowly diminished. He thrust a few more times into his hand and against Tucker's body before he slowly released the pressure and rolled to the side.  
  
He wiped his hand on the bed-sheet and then drew Tucker close to him.  
  
Panting raggedly, Tucker lay quiet against his lover for several minutes until the world returned to normal and he could think again. Drawing back, he looked into Reed's eyes. "You...you didn't..."  
  
Reed shook his head with a small smile. "It's all right," he assured Tucker. "I'm fine."  
  
Blue eyes studied his face intently for a few moments until Tucker sighed and relented, snuggling closer and pressing his face against Reed's neck. "I love you," he whispered drowsily. "I'm glad yer here."  
  
"So am I, Love," Reed replied and kissed Tucker's hair. "Sleep now, hm?"


	20. Chapter 20

The atmosphere aboard _Enterprise_ was different. It was subtle, but it was there. Every member of the crew seemed to go about his or her duties with renewed enthusiasm.   
  
Jonathan Archer stood near the tactical station and surveyed the bridge for a few moments after commencing his shift for the day. He ran his eyes over each member of his bridge crew.   
  
Travis Mayweather sat at the helm bolt upright, paying keen attention to his controls. Hoshi Sato manned her comms station, monitoring for the smallest sound over the radio frequencies. T'Pol sat placidly at her station, her hands moving occasionally as she made some adjustment or other to the sensors.   
  
With a smile and a satisfied nod, Archer moved towards his ready room. There wasn't much point in him remaining on the bridge for the moment. Everything seemed to be under control, and he still had a lot that he wanted to sort through from his encounter with Trip a couple of days before.   
  
He walked into the quiet and privacy of the ready room and moved to a chair, recalling the first moment of wonder as he stood face to face with Charles Tucker who was as solid and tangible as he had ever been on board the ship before he and Reed were lost in the Clinarin Sector.

**\--/--**

  
  
"Trip?" He took a step forward, losing the sense that this was all in his mind as he moved and spoke. There was none of the disconnectedness he had felt at first when entering the meditation state with T'Pol.   
  
"Hi, Cap'n."   
  
This time he heard Tucker clearly. Unconsciously he reached out and touched Tucker's face, smiling as his fingers contacted warm skin. "Trip..." He had to swallow past the emotions that rose in his throat. "It's really you."   
  
"Yeah, I'm here," Tucker replied. "Malcolm's here too, we're both okay."   
  
Then Archer was suddenly aware of the other presence. He turned his head to look at the alien female. She was unlike any creature he'd seen before. He studied her in amazement. "Hello," he said with a small smile of greeting.   
  
"Ahhhhssheerrr," the reptilian creature said and bowed slightly in acknowledgement.   
  
"This is Shondré," Tucker said, "She's been takin' care of Malcolm and me."   
  
"I'm pleased to meet you," Archer said with a nod.   
  
"Cap'n, I gotta lot to tell ya," Tucker broke in. "I don't have much time,"   
  
"All right," Archer gave his full attention to Tucker. "What is it?"   
  
Tucker had gone on to detail coordinates for finding the planet, and explained to him about the Cestus, and the comet that had an electromagnetic effect on the planet for one day every half year.   
  
"That's why y'couldn't find the shuttlepod, Cap'n, because time shifts here...You're gonna have to time yer arrival to coincide with the orbit of Malnatha, it's gonna make things rough with the interference, but there's a way for a small craft to get through the EM radiation. It'll take some fine flyin' but I think ya got a pilot who's up for it."

**\--/--**

  
  
Now, _Enterprise_ was on the way back to the sector where, almost two years ago, shuttlepod one had crashed with the loss of his two finest officers.   
  
Archer sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at some point in the middle distance.    
  
Tucker was changed. That much had been obvious even from their brief discussion two days ago. He seemed older, quieter and his appearance was notably different. He'd lost some weight, which he explained was because of a recent illness. There was scarring around his left eye and the way he held his right hand when he made gestures in the course of their conversation told of some kind of nerve damage. Archer found himself wondering how deep those changes ran, and if Reed had been affected by his two-year absence from _Enterprise_ as well.   
  
He drew a deep breath and shook his head. _We'll just have to wait and see_. Physical hurts, he was confident Phlox could treat, but there may be deeper, more complex issues. He couldn't say for sure what made him think so.   
  
Perhaps it was something in the way that Tucker talked about Reed. Nothing concrete had been said, and yet there were shadows in the engineer's eyes when he mentioned the Armory officer. Shadows that Archer didn't know the meaning of yet.A part of him didn't want to know.   
  
The sound of a comm signal brought the captain out of his reverie. He turned and thumbed the button behind him on the wall. "Archer."   
  
"Captain, we are approaching the Clinarin Sector," T'Pol's disembodied voice informed him.    
  
He nodded, "I'm on my way."


	21. Chapter 21

"What do ya wanna eat when we get back?" Tucker remembered the captain  
asking him the same question once, on another desert planet.   
He smiled, meeting Reed's eyes as heman raised his eyes from his work.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"Your first meal back on the ship? What'll it be?"  
  
Reed considered for a moment. "I don't know; I suppose it depends on what  
day of the week it is when we arrive."  
  
"Maybe, but I like to think ol' chef'll unbend a little and make us whatever  
we want." Tucker made an adjustment to the relays he was working on. "Me? I  
want catfish. Zilanth's a great planet, but they don't have anythin' here  
that comes close to pan-fried catfish."  
  
Reed nodded. "Ravioli," he said, deciding to enter the spirit of  
the game. "With salad."  
  
Tucker grinned. "Yeah, Chef does Italian good, doesn't he?"  
  
"Mmm."  
  
Tucker was pleased that he'd got Reed to join in on an activity  
that at least opened his mind to the possibility of returning to the ship.  
He knew that Reed was still not enthused by the prospect and he had tried  
several times to raise the topic only to be gently but firmly turned to  
other subjects.  
  
"What's the first thing you wanna do?"  
  
Reed raised an eyebrow at him, his blue-gray eyes clouding for a moment  
before he looked away. "Um..."  
  
"C'mon, you tell me, and then I'll tell ya mine," Tucker cajoled.  
  
"Well...all right," Reed sighed and laid down the spanner he was using. "I  
want to talk to Phlox," he said. "I want to have breakfast with him." He  
gave a small snort of laughter. "His endless chatter used to annoy me at  
times...I miss him."  
  
This was good. Tucker focused his attention on the relays to hide  
the rush of hope that small admission had given him. If he could  
just get Reed to start focusing on the things he missed from Enterprise, it  
would make the idea of returning something to look forward to rather than a  
thing of dread.  
  
"Your turn," Reed picked up a screwdriver, turning his attention back to  
working on the orbital. The small craft was very nearly space-worthy, but  
the lieutenant had doubts that they would have it completely ready by the  
time the ship was expected to arrive. If indeed Enterprisedid arrive.  
  
"I wanna have a beer with Jon, and...watch some sports." He grinned at  
Reed's pained expression. "Okay so you don't follow sports...I won't sass ya  
about readin' Hercules, if you leave me to enjoy mah football in peace."  
  
"Deal." Reed couldn't suppress a chuckle at Tucker's pronunciation of  
Her-cew-lees.  
  
"Are you laughin' at me lootenent?"  
  
"Laughing, sir? No, sir." Their eyes met, and locked across the small cabin of the  
orbital and Reed sucked in a breath at the intensity in the clear blue eyes  
that met his own.  
  
Laying aside his tools, Tucker moved from the small padded seat to  
kneel between Reed's legs. Reed smiled and let his hands fall to the other  
man's shoulders. He studied the intense expression for a few moments in  
silence and allowed his eyes to slip closed as Tucker reached up, pulling  
his head down to kiss him.  
  
It was slow and tentative, Tucker's mouth gently caressing across Reed's  
until Reed parted his lips with a shuddering sigh, surrendering himself to  
the pleasure this man could elicit. He slipped from his seat to kneel  
with Tucker on the floor, sucking on the engineer's bottom lip as they  
continued the gentle exploration of each other's mouths.  
  
Reed thrust his tongue between Tucker's lips, tasting and exploring the  
warmth of his lover. He groaned, sliding his hands down and then burrowing  
them under the soft leather of Tucker's vest. The vest and dun colored  
trousers had become almost a uniform for Tucker, denoting him as one  
skilled with machinery. Reed loved the feel of the soft hide. Even more,  
he loved the feel of Tucker's warm skin under his fingers as he caressed the  
engineer's chest.  
  
Tucker groaned and pulled away, glancing towards the  
open hatch and the desert landscape beyond. "Here?" He returned his gaze  
to Reed's eyes. "What if..."  
  
"No one will disturb us here," Reed swooped and claimed Tucker's lips again,  
nibbling gently and trying to tease the man into letting his tongue inside  
again.  
  
"Lemme close the hatch then," Tucker protested. "There might be juveniles."  
  
"All right." Reed reluctantly let the older man go. "Hurry though," he  
whispered.  
  
It only took a moment for Tucker to move to the hatch and pull it shut, the  
soft hiss of air indicating that the mechanism was working perfectly and the  
pod was now sealed. He nodded with satisfaction, once again thanking  
providence for the habits of the Zilanthi people that saw them salvage what  
they could of shuttlepod one. Many of the components that had gone into the  
building of this orbital were salvaged parts of the original vessel and  
he was grateful that they hadn't been lost to the ravages of the desert.  
  
Moving back to where Reed still knelt on the floor, Tucker pulled him close.   
Their lips met again in the slow playful dance of exploration and Tucker   
sighed with pleasure as warm hands again found their  
way under his vest. He shivered at the gentle grazing of neatly trimmed  
nails across his flesh.  
  
Reed explored his partner’s mouth and allowed his hands to rove freely  
under the leather vest, tracing muscles and smooth skin, feeling the  
flutter of sensitive flesh under his hands as he let them slide over  
Tucker's belly.  
  
Drawing back when the need to catch his breath forced them apart, Reed  
stared into Tucker's hazy eyes. "I love you," he said on a breath, moving  
his hands to untie the leather thong that fastened the vest and pushing the  
garment off Tucker's shoulders. He drank in the sight of the man's chest now  
exposed to his gaze and passed his tongue across his lips.  
  
Tucker shuddered, loving the almost predatory gleam in  
Malcolm's eyes; he arched his back with a small moan of  
need as the hands returned, gentle fingers teasing his nipples as a hot, wet  
mouth was applied to his neck, nibbling a line of electric shocks from just  
under his right ear to the shoulder. "Gawd, Malcolm," he sighed, "You're  
drivin' me nuts!"  
  
Reed responded with a sultry laugh that was almost a purr, rumbling from  
somewhere deep in his throat. He pushed Tucker backwards until the engineer  
lay on his back on the floor and then he reached to unbutton Tucker's  
trousers.  
  
Lifting his hips, Tucker helped Reed to get the pants unfastened and slipped  
off his ass, he hissed as he lowered his behind to the deck plating, shockingly cold   
against his bare skin. He squirmed a little but  
quickly forgot his discomfort as his senses were again overloaded by the  
combination of lips on his mouth and fingers trailing along his cock from  
base to head.  
  
He bucked as Reed's hand closed around his throbbing organ and began to pump  
slowly, whilst the tender assault on his mouth became more insistent, teeth  
and tongue coming into play as Reed deepened the kiss.  
  
With a whimper of need, Tucker let his arms slip around Reed's neck, running  
across the other man's shoulders and around to the buttons of his shirt,  
slowly working the first few buttons undone. He slipped his hands inside and   
explored the warm skin underneath, but wasthwarted from doing more as   
Reed gently but firmly pushed his hands away,lacing his fingers into those of   
Tucker's right hand and pushing it to thedeck. Tucker grunted and tore his lips free from Reed's.  
  
"Stop!" He squirmed and tried to pull free.  
"Malcolm, stop!" he insisted. "Let go my hand!"  
  
Confused blue-gray eyes met his and Tucker pushed himself into a sitting  
position, ignoring the cold of the deck plating. "I refuse to go any  
further," he said firmly. "Not unless you let me touch you too! I refuse to  
take one more bit of pleasure without givin' somethin' back!"  
  
"I should think your body would beg to differ on that," Reed said silkily,  
his eyes raking over Tucker, and settling on the unmistakably aroused  
member.  
  
"I don't care, Malcolm! I can have blue balls for a month! I can have bluer  
than blue balls...burple but I won't go any further like this!"  
  
"Burple?" Reed frowned, "That's not a color..." His confusion was obvious.  
  
"Yeah it is. Haven't ya ever heard of it?" Tucker had to hide a grin.  
"Burple \-- it's the color of a burp."  
  
"That's nonsense." Reed shook his head.  
  
"It's a joke, Malcolm... you're not tryin' to tell me you never heard it...   
What's the color of a burp?" he asked and shook his head when Reed  
merely stared at him. "Burple!"  
  
"I see..." Reed shot Tucker a sidelong glance.  
  
"Why'd the fly fly?"  
  
"I beg your..."  
  
"Because the spider spied 'er."  
  
"Oh that's so..." but his words were cut off by a swift kiss, lips brushing  
against his and Reed closed his eyes with a sigh.  
  
"What's black n white, n red all over?" Tucker murmured against Reed's lips.  
  
"I don't know..." Reed tried to capture those teasing lips again, completely  
oblivious to Tucker's hands working the buttons of his shirt undone.  
  
"Sunburned zebra."  
  
That surprised a laugh before Reed shook his head. "Zebras do not suffer  
from sunb..." Again his protest was silenced with a kiss and he leaned into  
it, only vaguely aware of questing hands exploring his chest.  
  
Tucker smiled into the kiss as his fingers gently worked Reed's shirt back  
off his shoulders so that he could explore the exposed skin. He gently  
caressed Reed's belly, diffusing any protests with more nonsensical humor.  
  
Once the shirt was off, Tucker concentrated for a long time on kissing,  
nibbling and licking Reed's body, from his lips, down his throat to his  
chest, returning to the younger man's lips and to whisper another nonsense  
joke when Reed tensed or tried to push him away.  
  
His efforts were rewarded when Tucker took a nipple between his lips and  
sucked gently.He felt the shudder that ran the length of the younger man's  
body, and delighted in the husky moan of desire that accompanied it.  
  
He gave the other nipple the same treatment, venturing so far as to teeth it  
lightly without biting down.  
  
"Yes!" It was barely a whisper, but the word caused Tucker's heart to race.  
Reed wanted this. Tucker closed his eyes,  
kissing a trail from Reed's chest to his belly and swirling his tongue into  
his partner's navel. The soft skin twitched, and Reed chuckled.  
  
"That tickles!"  
  
Tucker moved back up along Reed's body until they were face to face. "I love  
you," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto Reed's mouth. "I'll never ever hurt  
ya, Malcolm."  
  
"I know," Reed said and was about to say more but Tucker gently laid a  
finger on his lips.  
  
"I need to be able to touch you," he said quietly, "I'll only ever do it to  
make you feel good...I couldn't hurt you for anythin'," he murmured. "Please  
don't push me away anymore?"  
  
Reed stared into Tucker's eyes for several moments, studying his face  
intently.  
  
"Please, Malcolm."  
  
Finally, he nodded his dark blue-gray eyes still uncertain, "I'll try."  
  
"Thank you." Tucker dipped his head and claimed Reed's lips once more.


	22. Chapter 22

Captain Archer moved to his seat aboard Shuttlepod 2 and tried desperately not to fidget as Mayweather ran through the routine pre-flight checks. He knew they were  necessary, but he had never in his life wanted so desperately to order someone to let them  slide just this once.

He sat, fixing his attention on a padd in his hand in order to keep from barking at the ensign to hurry up.

He was dimly aware of Doctor Phlox and T'Pol settling into their seats.

It was still difficult to believe that in less than an hour, all going well, he would see his best friend, Charles Trip Tucker the third again. After so many months of believing the man dead, it was an enormous paradigm shift to readjust to the idea that not only Trip, but Malcolm as well , had survived the crash of their  shuttlepod on  Zilanth .

He sighed as Travis announced that they were ready to launch. With a small nod, he gave Mayweather clearance to do so.

As soon as the small craft was free of the launching arm, the slight turbulence of EM interference  became apparent. Archer glanced out through the front view port at the large, long tailed comet that was just becoming visible over the rim of the planet below. He bit his lip, praying that the instructions Tucker had given him were correct.

Mayweather cast the comet a glance as well, but he remained calm, focused on his navigational readouts. "We'll be entering the tunnel in about a minute," he reported. "It could get a little bumpy."

Archer nodded again, still not trusting himself to speak and glanced towards T'Pol. He found her dark brown eyes studying him intently and he smiled slightly. "I guess you find my  edginess illogical."

"On the contrary, a certain level of anticipation is to be expected when  bond mates are to be reunited. Vulcans are merely better at containing it."

Archer suppressed a grin at the subtle barb of humor and looked away. "I'll try harder," he said , only loud enough for her sensitive ears.

**\--/--**

"Rheedh," Moltoth, a young male Zilanthi looked up from monitoring the sensors. "There is a craft approaching the planet. It  i s s using the way." He turned his amber eyes to the Malcolm. "There are four occupants, two human and two of species I do not recognize."

Reed froze for a moment as his heart lurch ed in and then it took on an uneven, uncomfortable  rhythm as he slowly turned to look at the readouts and confirm for himself what Moltoth reported.

Leaning over the small screen, he read the data that scrolled across it, and then tapped a control to initiate a scan of his own. He sighed and had to force himself not to close his eyes when the specifications of the shuttlepod ran across the readout, followed by a schematic graph. It was a Starfleet shuttlepod. He bit his lower lip. 

"Thank you," he said to Moltoth and reached with a trembling hand fo r a communications panel. "Reed to Tucker," he said, fighting to keep his voice even. "Th--there is a shuttlepod app -app roaching the de-designated coordinates."

"Tucker here," his voice was edged with excitement, almost palpable over the link. "I should have 'em on visual pretty soon… yeah, there it is!" There was a pause and then Tucker's voice  came again, a little subdued. "A re you okay?"

"Ye-ah," Reed shut down the link. 

"Rheedh?" Moltoth stepped towards the human, his amber eyes mirroring concern as the Malcolm leaned heavily against the console for a moment.

"I -- I'm f-fine," Reed muttered before he made his way to an access tunnel. "I-- I--" but he didn't finish, merely walked into the tunnel and made his way quickly towards his home cavern.

**\--/--**

Charles Tucker watched as the shuttlep od swung in a graceful arc over head before it settled with a small disturbance of the sand next to the Orbital he and Reed had built. He almost hopped from one foot to the other, waiting for the engines to shut down completely so it was safe to approach the vessel. It was all real, his telepathic communication with the captain had really happened, and they were finally, really here.

He glanced over his shoulder, wondering what was taking Reed so long to get to the landing site . I t was not all that far from where Reed had been monitoring the sensors.

As the whine of impulse engines slowly died and  pressure hissed from the releasing airlock , Tucker could contain himself no longer  and he moved forward, watching as the shuttlepod hatch went up. 

His eyes took in every inch of the tall, graceful frame of Jonathan Archer as the captain stepped down from the shuttlepod, followed a moment later by T'Pol.

"Cap'n!" T ucker took a half step forward and then stopped as though he'd hit a solid wall.  _ Tucker! _ It was Shondré's touch on his mind, insistent, urgent.  _ C _ _ ome! _

Without a second thought, without  another word to the landing party Tucker pivoted on his heel and fairly sprinted in the direction of Shondré's burrow.

He almost knocked the aged healer over as he cannoned into her living room and she had to catch hold of his arms,  to steady them both. "Tucker!"

"Where is he? It's Malcolm, isn't it? What's happened?" Tucker tried to slip past her, but she gripped his arms with surprising strength. "Calm!" Shondré barked you will bring him  _ no _ benefit if you are frantic!"

Tucker shuddered letting his body relax in her strong hold, closing his eyes as he fought to bring his breathing under control and slow the frantic racing of his heart. After a few moments, he looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "Is he all right? I thought I sensed… I thought…"

"He iss not well," the healer said. "He  i s s _not_ _well_ … come." She turned and led the way into the small room she used as an infirmary.

The room contained two beds which were normally used for patients in the healer's care, but neither one held the slight frame of the human male. Tucker looked around the room, searching for his partner, fighting to keep the mindless panic at bay.  _ God, please don't let anythin' happen to him, now...not when we're so close to  _ _ goin _ _ ' home, please, please... _

He heard Reed's voice before he saw the man.

"R-Reed, lef-tenent, a-armou-ry off-icer  _ Enterprise _ , NX-01" 

Following the sound of that broken voice, Tucker peered into a darkened corner of the cavern to find his lover crouched in a huddl ed ball. Reed breathed rapidly, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with perspiration . H e pressed his back  into the corner , eyes wide, the pupils dilated as he repeated the only thing that his mind seemed capable of for that moment.

"R-Reed, lef-tenent, a-armou-ry off-icer  Enterprise , NX-01" 

Tucker cast a glance at t he healer.  He swallowed hard. "What…what happened to him?"

"Fear," Shondré replied. She gently pushed Tucker forward. "He  i s s no danger. He needs you."

With a small nod, Tucker yielded to her prompting. Walking over to where Reed huddled, he knelt in front of the man.  " Malcolm , it's me, it's Trip, no. It's Charles, Malcolm. " He shook his head slightly, he didn't need to feel the man's pulse to know that the lieutenant's heart was racing, he could see  the frantic pulse fluttering at the base of his throat. Reed was locked in a  full-blown panic attack. " Look, it's my weak hand, it can't hurt ya." He raised the hand palm up so that the weakest two fingers touched Reed's  jaw line , tilting the unresisting face upward as he tried to make eye contact.  "I'm here, darlin' it's okay, noone's gonna hurt ya."

Tucker was aware of movement in the room behind him, but he didn't look around . All his concentration  was  focused at that moment on  Malcolm . He started slightly when something soft brushed against his arm, until he realized it was a blanket.

"He  i s s chilled, Tucker,"  Shondré told him . " T ry to put this blanket around him,"

Taking hold of the light covering, Tucker nodded and gently proceeded to wrap it around Reed's shoulders. "Malcolm? It's only a blanket. Lean forward a little, huh? I need to get you warm…okay?"

"C-can't c-can't I -- D-don-d-on't let them ---" Reed shuddered and his hands came up to fight against Tucker's, "I c-can-'t g-go b-back -- I c-can't."

"All right, shh. No one's gonna make ya do anythin' ya don't want..." Tucker eased the blanket behind Reed as the man seemed to relax a little. "Just let me put this blanket aroun' yer shoulders. Good, that's good." Tucker moved to sit next to Reed and pressed his body against the other man's shoulder, letting him feel the pressure without cutting off his  means of escape. "We'll just take it easy here a while."

Reed closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. His breathing settled a little, and the tremors that shook him eased as well. He fell silent, the need to repeat his name rank and position seeming to abate. After a moment, he leaned towards Tucker, returning the gentle pressure of the engineer's shoulder.

Tucker glanced towards the  healer and saw her slight nod.  _ He will be well _ , she told him telepathically.  _ He is very tired, but we will not move him yet. _

**\--/--**

Jonathan Archer politely inclined his head in response to an offer of food and drink from one of the Reptilian aliens. A female who had introduced herself as Shereth stood at his elbow, chattering animatedly about how his two officers had come to their village and some of the events that had taken place since.

Archer  was surprised at first when the small party of females had come to greet him. They spoke his language and the universal translators they'd brought along had been unnecessary. It seemed that a small exchange of cultures had taken place while Tucker and Reed were stranded on the planet. Archer could only hope that his men had remembered not to interfere too much with the culture of the Zilanthi people.

"When Captain Arsher came with Rheeedh, we were all very happy," Shereth said, her eyes taking on a reminiscent gleam. "Tucher, was overjoyed…eventually, but I heard from some of the other healers that he though t at first he saw a shade." The Zilanthi laughed and took a sip of her drink.

"What?" Archer frowned. "Captain  _ Archer _ ?" Had he heard Shereth correctly?

"Yes," the female replied with a small lift of her shoulders. "The same-not same Captain Arsher. The one from other time." She said this as though it was the most normal thing in the world and Archer had to smile as he realized that in this world, it probably was.

"I see."

"I wish you could have seen," Shereth's lips curled in a smile. "When Tucher and Same-not same-Tucher met…" A sound that approached a ch uckle escaped the young reptilian's throat.  "It is always amusing when those who do not know Malnatha's ways meet themselves."

Archer smiled, finding himself liking the youthful exuberance of the alien female. He wondered how old she was.

"I was not supposed to watch," Shereth said, "But I was curious, Tucher is a curiosity to us all…and Rheedh too, I have often wondered what it must be like when two males…"

A sudden stir of activity near the doorway cut off her chatter and Shereth excused herself to move to the side of an obviously  high-ranking female who had just entered the cavern.

This reptilian was somewhat different to Shereth and the others, her skin was finer, and her eyes gleamed with a keen intelligence that startled Archer when she met his gaze. She was small and slight of stature, but something about the way she carried herself was regal and belied  her small stature . He stared at her for a moment as she approached him and then, something in the way she tipped her head was suddenly familiar. "Shondré?" 

"Arrrsherrr," the female said as she came to stand in front of him. "Please, will you accept my  regret s s ? It  wa s s I that called Tucker away from your first meeting after these two spans. It  wa s s needful."

Archer nodded. "I have to admit, I was a little…surprised when he took off like that." He smiled, trying hard to keep hold of the diplomatic veneer he'd worn for the past hour as the Zilanthi treated them to ample hospitality and scant explanation. "Would it be possible for us to see Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed? I'm sure you're aware that we have limited time."

"There  i s s time for all things," Shondré replied with a tip of her head that caused the silver ridges above her eyes to flash in the subdued light, "I am aware that you have a healer with you. I require her assistance." The healer looked to T'Pol, "Please come."

"Uh…" Archer took a half step forward, "I'm afraid you're mistaken. Phlox is o ur doctor." He gestured to the  D enobulan who was engaged in conversation with a small group of Zilanthi males on the other side of the room. 

At the mention of his  name, the doctor excused himself and returned to Captain Archer's side.

"A  _ male _ healer?" Shondré looked Phlox over for a moment. "Singular."

Phlox blinked several times and seemed to fumble for something to say. " I'm Doctor Phlox," he eventually managed. "Is there something you need?"

"There  i s s ,"  Shondré looked from Phlox to T'Pol once more and Archer could almost swear that the female would have much preferred T'Pol's assistance to that of the Denobulan, but she said nothing, merely gesturing to Phlox to follow her. "Come , now."

**\--/--**

Reed had been silent for a long time and Tucker was beginning to wonder if the h e’ d fallen asleep. He certainly looked as though he needed to sleep. Deep lines of exhaustion marked his handsome face, and  dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as though he were dreaming.

Tucker frowned and let out a breath. Reed had  made such good progress over the past couple of weeks, even his attempted suicide had begun to fade into the distance as each of them turned his attention to working on getting the orbital ready to fly.

He had been so hopeful after the previous night when Reed played the little game about what would happen when they got back home, and now, here he was almost back where he had started from.

The engineer reached for Reed's hand. "Malcolm?" he called softly, "Are you okay?"

Slowly, the blue-grey eyes flickered open. Reed looked around at his surroundings for a moment, seeming confused and then his gaze came to rest on Tucker's face. "Trip?" Reed frowned, "What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" We were waitin' for the cap'n to arrive, you commed to let me know they were here and…"

Reed nodded and closed his eyes again. "I remember." A shudder ran through him and Tucker tightened his grip on the icy fingers he held.

"It's okay, Malcolm, there's nothin' to be scared about. Or to be ashamed of,"

"I can't do it, Trip." Malcolm's voice was a ragged whisper. "I can't face them, I can't."

"Shhh," Tucker gave the man's hand a gentle squeeze. "R ight now, ya don't hafta do  anythin '," he said. "All ya hafta do for now is rest." As he spoke, he got to his feet. "Why don't we get you up on one of the beds? This floor's cold!"

Reed nodded and allowed Tucker to help him up. "I'm tired," he admitted.

"I know." Tucker assisted his partner over to one of the beds and helped him to get in. "I think ya need to sleep."

"You won't leave, will you?" Reed's eyes were suddenly clouded with fear. "I need you."

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

A nod and a shuddering sigh and Reed sank down against the pillows.

Tucker sat by him and kept a hold of Reed's hand, gently rubbing his thumb across the knuckles.

"That's -- nice," Reed murmured as he finally drifted into exhausted sleep.

Tucker let his head fall forward, pressing Reed's hand against his forehead as he leaned against the side of the bed. H _ e's not ready _ . H e admitted to himself.  _ H _ _ ow am I gonna get him aboard the ship when the idea obviously terrifies him? _

Raising his head for a moment, he glanced at a small chrono on a counter at the side of the room . O ne of the few timepieces that the Zilanthi kept, it showed that the day was well advanced into mid morning. That left about 16 hours before Malnatha left the  Clinarin sector,  _ Enterprise _ had to  depart before then, or the entire landing party would be stranded here for another half span.

Tucker sighed and looked at the sleeping man on the bed. "What'm I gonna do, Malcolm?"


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end for now.
> 
> Part four to come.

Charles Tucker paced the length of the cavern in agitation. He huffed a breath and turned to face the captain with a pleading look.   
  
"I told him we wouldn't _make_ him do what he didn't want to! Now you want to fill him up with sedatives and take him back there whether he likes it or not?"   
  
"He has to come back, Trip. In case you've forgotten, he's a commissioned officer on my ship. If it makes it any easier on you, I'll save you making the decision." He turned to Phlox. "Keep Lieutenant Reed sedated and have him confined to sickbay immediately we arrive aboard Enterprise, Doctor."   
  
Phlox nodded. "Yes, Captain."   
  
"I promised him..." Tucker began and the captain rounded on him sharply. 

"Are you questioning a direct order, Commander?"   
  
Tucker took a half step back. "No, sir."   
  
Archer sighed. He hated having to pull rank, but the fact remained that he had come to this planet to retrieve two members of his crew, and he didn’t intend to leave again without them. He wished that they had the luxury of time on their side to let Reed adjust to the idea of returning to the ship, but time was one thing they didn't have.   
  
He also had to admit, if he was completely honest, that his patience with this planet and anything to do with it was wearing extremely thin.   
  
Whilst the Zilanthi had been the soul of hospitality and diplomacy, they'd also managed to grate on his nerves by refusing to tell him anything about Tucker and Reed beyond the history of how the men arrived on the planet six months apart and how they had settled in since.   
  
He had a sneaking suspicion that even Phlox knew more than he did and it made him edgy.   
  
He moved across the room to lay a hand on Tucker's shoulder. "I know none of this can have been easy on you, Trip," he softened his tone from the stern, commanding one he had used moments before. "But we don't have time to debate this. Malcolm can receive treatment on the ship that they can't give him here."   
  
That was one thing that Shondré had admitted. The healer had spoken briefly to the captain before leaving him alone with his Chief Engineer.   
  
"I have done what I could for them, Arrsherr," she said. "But I know little of your species beyond what I was able to decipher from the database the Terrans left with Rheedh. Much of my treatment was guesswork. Though it grieves me to see them leave, they will fare better amongst their own people."   
  
Tucker bowed his head, the blue eyes slipped closed for a moment and he nodded slightly. "Aye, Cap'n," he whispered.   
  
"Trip?" Archer squeezed the man's shoulder and met the anguished blue eyes. "It's for the best," he said, knowing, and hating that it was a platitude.   
  
"Yeah," Tucker nodded again and pulled away from the captain's touch. A subtle but definite rejection. "I better go start packin'."   
  
Tucker made his way back to the burrow he shared with Reed. Now that his partner was sedated and under Phlox’s care, he felt better about leaving him while he gathered what few personal belongings they possessed.   
  
T'Pol and Mayweather had already retrieved the computer console that the Terran Enterprise left behind, along with the medicine cabinet and anything else that could be considered a cultural 'contaminant,' Tucker glanced around the cavern. It looked desolate and bare and he slowly sank down on a stool and rubbed his face with both hands.   
  
This was supposed to have been a happy day. The day he had dreamed of so many times since coming to this planet. He was going home, back to his engines, but it hadn't turned out the way that he'd imagined it would.   
  
"Tucker." Her gentle voice pierced through his thoughts and the engineer looked up into the soft amber eyes that had become so familiar to him over the past two years.   
  
"Shondré," his voice hitched on her name and he bowed his head again, blindly reaching for her paw and grasping it as she extended it to him.   
  
"Your soul iss troubled," she said softly. "You fear for your Malcolm." Neither statement was a question.   
  
He nodded. "I shoulda paid more attention. I shoulda realized, but I was so caught up in my own excitement I didn't even notice."   
  
"You were not wrong, Tucker." The healer touched her other paw to his temple. "Your heart longs for home, it iss your place -- you belong there, not here far from your people, away from your time."   
  
"Shondré, what if we take him back there and he just can't cope? What if he -- what if he hates me for it?"   
  
"You think so little of hiss love for you? Do you really believe hiss feelings are so shallow?"   
  
A sigh and a shake of the head, "I don't know."   
  
"You know…" She moved her paw from his head to rest over his heart. "In here, you know. It iss only the mind that doubts, Tucker."   
  
"But he's not ready," Tucker said quietly.   
  
"He will never be ready, Tucker." The healer let her paw fall into her lap. "Sometimes we must do what we do not want to do." She sighed. "Even I."   
  
"You don't want us to go."   
  
"Perceptive as ever, but I would be wrong to keep you here, as you would be wrong to stay, Tucker," she told him. "Go home," she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Return to your people and help your Malcolm to be well."   
  
With an effort, the healer got to her feet and shuffled towards the door. Before she left, she turned again to look at him. "My soul iss honoured to have known yourss, Tucker," she said. "I will not speak with you again, my friend. Be well."   
  
And she was gone.   
  
"Goodbye," he whispered after she had shuffled away. _Goodbye_ , he added telepathically, but there was no answering touch from her mind.

  
  
  
**\--/--**

  
  
"Captain's Starlog supplemental:   
  
Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed returned to _Enterprise_ today after an absence of almost two years.    
  
Lieutenant Reed is currently under the care of Doctor Phlox and Commander Tucker is on forty-eight hours rest before debriefing. Computer, pause."   
  
Archer leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. How was he supposed to word this log for Starfleet command? How could he explain the changes in the two men they had returned to Zilanth for and not make it sound like both men were completely unfit for duty?   
  
The changes in them were evident.   
  
Tucker was scarred physically from the shuttle crash, and from other ordeals on the planet.The details were sketchy as yet, the commander having been unwilling to talk much when they returned to the ship.    
  
Reed was still heavily sedated, and Phlox remained close lipped about what he and Shondré had discussed. He refused to disclose anything, he said, without Lieutenant Reed's permission, and since the Lieutenant would be in no condition to give such authority for at least two days, the captain would simply have to wait.   
  
Archer sighed and shook his head. "Resume log," he murmured. When the computer beeped an acknowledgement, he spoke clearly and firmly.   
  
"Further reports will be submitted after a complete physical and psychological evaluation of both officers. End Starlog."

  
  
**\--/--**

  
  
Tucker lay on the bunk in his quarters and stared up at the ceiling. It was strange being back aboard ship, the stars streaming by the viewport made him dizzy and he preferred not to watch them. The space in the bed next to him felt too empty. He longed for Reed's presence with an ache that threatened to consume him.   
  
He was utterly alone for the first time in two years. There was not the light telepathic touch of an old healer. They were separated forever by time and space, and he had noticed her absence almost as soon as the shuttle, followed by his orbital had left the narrow tunnel that Malnatha left open for them to pass. If he closed his eyes and focused his thoughts, he could almost feel her, but without her assistance his abilities were limited.   
  
He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face against the crook of one arm. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes but he refused to let them fall.   
  
After a moment, he sat up and reached for a comm panel.   
  
"Tucker to Sickbay,"   
  
"Phlox here," the response was immediate. "How can I help you, Commander?"   
  
It seemed strange to be called by his rank. He shook his head and swallowed hard to make his voice sound even and professional. "I just wanted to check in on Lieutenant Reed's status."   
  
"The Lieutenant is resting quietly, Commander, no change." Phlox said.   
  
"Thanks." Tucker thumbed the button to cut the link.   
  
Stretching out on his bunk once more, he closed his eyes. He doubted that he would sleep at all, but he was on orders to rest and he could at least attempt to follow them.   
  
Tomorrow, he would go and see Malcolm. Tomorrow he would take the first steps on the road back to his old life. God willing, Malcolm would come with him.   
  
**~FIN~**

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this work, please leave kudos or comments to let the author know.


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